


The Lucky Race With A Black Cat

by Bluetreeleaves



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Action & Romance, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Very AU, Angst and Tragedy, Complete, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Possible trigger warnings for violence, Supernatural Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-05-04 11:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 76,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14592567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluetreeleaves/pseuds/Bluetreeleaves
Summary: AU COMPLETE - Marinette was risking her life for years to save the enslaved akuma - a fight she thought was almost over. Adrien was living a simple life, going from day to day without purpose - until he was mistaken for a hitman, handed one-hundred thousand euros, and her picture. Thrown together by destiny, they'll race to discover the identity of the criminal overlord, Hawkmoth, and stop him once and for all.But what's this about Marinette's Black Cat hero?





	1. Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is no moon

With a deep breath, Marinette closed the damaged wooden door to the three-story apartment complex and pulled the collar of her leather jacket up on her neck. The night was a deep, icy black. Glancing up with worried blue-bell eyes, she looked for the moon through the draping trees.

It was absent.

A new moon.

She was thankful there wasn't a race tonight. Tikki always said a race with no moon meant bad luck.

The cold wind tossed her black fringe from her forehead, and made the trees dance with a chilling whistling song. Suddenly, a different type of song burst from her bag.

“I LOVE UNICORNS! I LOVE UNICORNS!”

Smiling absentmindedly at her awful ringtone, Marinette skipped off the dangerously crumbling steps and swung her pink satchel around her front. Fishing out her cellphone, she flipped in her password and saw the caller's name.

 _Speaking of trouble..._ She thought grimly before answering the call.

"Yes, Fu?"

" _Where are you? Are you near the city?"_

A drop of nervousness instantly hit her stomach at his tense voice. Something was wrong.

"I'm leaving the apartment. I was about to get my bike and meet up with Rose and Juleka at the Orphanage. Why?"

" _As always, fortune has smile upon us_ ,” the old man’s cryptic words just made Marinette roll her eyes to the cloudy sky.

“May I ask why we are so fortunate, Fu?"

" _Hawkmoth announced a race! You have only a few minutes to join the akuma!"_

Marinette almost dropped the phone. " _What_? But there was one last weekend! When? Where?"

" _The start line is on the corner of Rue d'Alesia and des Plantes in 14th arrondissement! Do you have the Ladybug collar?"_

"Yeah, in my bag. You don't think he's making the stakes higher because there's less competition now, do you? Making the Masters work for the goal?"

" _We can discuss all that later! Make sure to signal Wayzz’s group!"_

"I'm on it, Fu!" She shouted and hung up quickly as her adrenaline started pumping. Plunging her phone into the satchel, she fished what looked like a thick, leather collar with long black wires and buckled it around her thin neck. Tucking the wires down her shirt, she pressed a small button on the buckle and raced off the jagged sidewalk towards her parked motorcycle. She unlocked the back and plopped her heavy bag into the back compartment. Securing a black helmet over her pig-tails, she kicked her racing bike alive and swiveled out onto the black streets.

She hoped Wayzz would make it on time.

* * *

  
Fu swallowed down the growl that was rising in his throat and tucked the small burner phone in his pocket. Glancing in the mirror of the rundown bathroom, he straightened the dark wig that was flopping in an odd direction on his head. Pushing up the thin framed glasses on the bridge of his small nose, he made sure his fake controller was perfectly visible on his thin arm. It was an uncomfortable contraption that latched onto his forearm and stuck out like a painter's palette. It consisted of four metal switches on a top row and ten red buttons. The number 28 was branded into the handle. That was his Master's number.

Only, he wasn't an actual Master.

A real Master was a slave-owner. A slave with no freewill. Who only served to do his Master's bidding. Mindless and powerless.

That was the horrific reality for the akuma.

He checked his watch and scowled. Hawkmoth had dropped this surprise on all the Masters. It was only pure luck that he happened to be in the area where the summons was made. He hoped the Ladybug made it in time.

Keeping his head high and an air of self-importance on his face, he strolled out of the bathroom door and exited the old building. Crossing the dark unoccupied street with his cane tapping the concrete, he entered through fancy swinging doors and traversed the marble tiled floors towards a small hallway to the left. Stepping onto the red carpeted floor with his sparkling leather shoes, he tried look as stoic as possible as he joined the small line of Masters waiting to sign in with their akuma. He studied the backs of their heads with his sharp, dark eyes.

Fu wasn't surprised to see the line so small. This was the first time Hawkmoth had made such a bold move against the Masters. If you didn't sign up your akuma in time for the competition, it was practically a disqualification. Most of the time, all Masters had at least a two-week notice.

This was unexpected.

It made Fu both uneasy and strangely excited.

Would Hawkmoth finally declare a winner to the game now that the Masters' pot was getting smaller? Was this the opening Fu had been waiting for all these years? Posing as the Ambassador from Hong Kong had proven much easier than expected – especially for a city riddled with kidnapping and crime. Fu had Wayzz simply forge documents and a clearance and he was in.

Standing in line, he recognized two of the men waiting in front of him. There was Roger Raincomprix - the Leader of Investigations and Police Commissioner in Paris and the old Mayor before Gabriel Agreste had taken over: Andre Bourgeois.

Fu inwardly sighed at the sight of these prestigious men. The people of this city had wondered for years why the police department hadn't made any headway into stopping this sick game. The _Commissioner_ was two people in front of him. He'd always wondered what kind of person it took to actually participate in this horror. Using real human beings and twisting them into mindless robots for a dangerous race all for what? Power?

Majority of the Masters had been specifically chosen because of their high positons within the city. Just another way for Hawkmoth to further his control in the underworld.

When Marinette had heard rumors of akuma getting killed by their Masters, it had only strengthened their resolve. It was time to free this city from Hawkmoth’s corruption. It was time to take back the lives he had stolen and brainwashed.

But first – they had to win the game.

There was almost a deafening silence in the hallway. The old man had an urge to hold his breath in case he exhaled too loudly. That was one thing about the Masters. They were a quiet lot. It had become practically an unspoken rule: don't talk to each other until the game was done. And even then, just congratulate the victor and be on your way.

"Master 23, please step forward," a young woman's voice spoke in monotone from the front of the line. Noticing the small flashing light at the end of the hallway, Fu already knew that the attendant had an akuma collar on. They always did. They were Hawkmoth’s personal bodyguards.

"Thank you, Master 23. Your akuma has been registered. Please take your place upstairs. Master 12, please step forward." Master 23 turned, the ten buttons of his controller now blinking beautifully on his arm. He was connected to his akuma now. Somewhere near Rue d'Alesia, a mindless human was obediently kicking their bike alive and riding to the starting line.

The Master turned down the hallway and disappeared around the corner. Fu kept his eyes straight to the front and moved up in the line.

"Thank you, Master 12. Your akuma has been registered. Please take your place upstairs. Master 44, please step forward."

Fu was after Bourgeois. He could see the woman now. She was a very small thing with short cropped hair and a thin mouth. Her small hands moved expertly over the Raincomprix's controls, and within seconds, the Police Commissioner was lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"Thank you, Master 44. Your akuma has been registered. Please take your place upstairs. Master 60, please step forward." Raincomprix turned, headed down the hall, and up the stairs like the rest. Fu tried not to, but he couldn't help staring at the woman's collar. From what he'd seen with Nathaniel before they freed him, he knew vaguely how they functioned. Eight wires in all. Four wires traveled around the back of her slender neck and snaked beneath the bottom of her skull inside her brain. Wayzz was the expert in how exactly the collars made the victim a mindless slave. The old man knew the other four black wires were attached to the left valve of her heart. They twisted down her slightly revealing blouse and burrowed disgustingly inside her chest. If her heart ever stopped beating, the collar would act like a bomb and explode instantly.

That was how Hawkmoth destroyed his evidence.

"Thank you, Master 60. Your akuma has been registered."

The old man got his hidden signal ready. Once the attendant 'connected' his controller, he would immediately signal to Ladybug to light up her 'collar'.

"Master 28, please step forward."

He mentally took a deep breath and walked towards her.

* * *

 

The night was dark and full. Marinette’s heart hammered in her chest. With every flash from passing billboard signs, she felt the rush of panic. What if she didn't make it? She prayed inwardly that the familiar beep wouldn't sound.

 _Just a little further… just a little further…_ she repeated, speeding wildly over the limit and brushing past cars. She took a hard left; practically leaning off her bike to make the turn. Entering a quiet street, she immediately slammed the brake and skidded to a halt in front of _Vo_ _gue Optique_. Warm relief rocked into her heart.

There they were. Motionless and silent. Waiting like lambs for the slaughter.

The akuma.

She breathed deeply to steady her fast heart beat. No one watched her. All helmeted heads faced forward staring straight ahead. Waiting. Her blue eyes searched beyond her dark helmet without turning her head. No guards stationed this time as well.

Was Hawkmoth so comfortable that he truly believed no one would try to stop him?

Colors of red and blue suddenly burst from the collar of a still figure three people ahead of her. She tried not to look as the stranger kicked their bike alive and went to line up at the starting line.

Within minutes, a small beep sounded in her right ear and she immediately reached up to pull the far right wire at her neck. Her collar lit up in an array of colors. With another quick check to make sure all the wires were in place, she pulled the bike off the side and headed down the litter-filled street to the starting line.

 _Here we go_ , she thought with grim determination. Another small beep in her left ear signaled that the GPS was up and working. Wayzz was ready and waiting with the cavalry.

Time to fly.

* * *

 

**The next day - Afternoon**

Adrien Agreste sighed as he slid onto the familiar wooden stool and placed a rough hand on the smooth polished surface of the bar counter. Swallowing down another sigh, he raked a hand through his messy blond locks and slightly pulled on the strands on the back of his head. He felt his stomach tense once more with the strange foreboding feeling that had loomed over his mind like a black cloud all day. Adrien hadn't felt this type of anxiety in years. He was used to trusting his instincts, but what good were his instincts in the real world? What were they trying to tell him?

"Had a rough day, bud?" the barkeeper's smooth voice cut in and the green-eyed man smiled gratefully at his best friend. Nino Lahiffe pushed a coaster and a tall pilsner full of dark beer in front of him. Strapped in his usual white apron and t-shirt, Nino leaned on the counter with a laid-back grin.

"How could you tell?"

"You're a little later than usual, dude. I thought you might actually be on a date and cheating on me."

"I finished the foundation project a bit late today. Besides, you know I only have you in my heart."

"Ha!” Nino barked a laugh, “I figured you were always the first one off the site with 'project complete' stamped on your impeccable forehead."

"Haven't been myself today. Keep remembering things and having this weird feeling."

"Remembering things, dude?" His friend asked. Nino reached over to grab a towel to begin wiping an already spotless counter-top. He caught the quiet haunted look in Adrien’s green eyes and nodded with his smile dropping. "I get it, man. I was there, too. Alya as well. We all were there. You need a woman to pull you out of the funk. That or another job. It's the only way out."

Adrien shook his head and took a gulp of beer. The cold liquid warmed his belly and calmed him slightly. "I don't need a woman. I just need a distraction."

Nino snorted. "Trust me, bro. There is no better distraction than a woman. Alya is my heart and soul, but damn is she annoying. But enough about me. We were talking about you and your lack of distractions." He tossed the cloth over his shoulder and peered at Adrien from under his red cap.

The blond took another swig of beer. "Maybe distraction isn't the best word, Nino. Purpose, maybe? It's… something to be proud of."

"Construction isn't everything you've dreamed of and more?"

"It's a lackluster mistress."

Nino exhaled from his nose and leaned his tan elbows on the counter. "Look, dude. You need to move on. This is just unrest. Everyone needs stimulation in their lives. How many years has it been? Four? Five?"

"About that, yeah."

"What about getting back into modeling?"

Now it was Adrien's turn to laugh. "A wash-up with PTSD? What a thought..."

"You never know, dude. You still got the looks. That tragic past in your eye might be your ticket to restarting your career."

His mind already rejecting the idea, Adrien picked up his glass and drank another mouthful. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and realize everything was a dream and I'm a black cat with an overactive imagination."

"Despite your old nickname, a black cat can't pull off flannel as well as you can, bud," Nino batted his eyelashes jokingly. "Though I do miss the leather."

"I don't!" Adrien laughed, glancing down at his dirty red-checkered shirt. Watching his friend get called by the table behind him, he picked up the tall glass by the rim and rotated the bottom of the pilsner on top of the coaster.

_"…In other news, yet another underground motorcycle race was held last night despite the Paris Police Department’s desperate attempt to stop them. Nadja Chamack has more on the story…"_

Adrien immediately looked up to watch the large television mounded at the back of the bar. Black and white photos of familiar crash scenes began to flash across the crystal clear screen. Melancholy music played in the background with the pictures. Some of the photos Adrien remembered were from several years ago.

 _The news must have run out of important things to talk about_ , he mused silently. Still, he was grateful for its interference from his troubles. Even if it was something they reported about almost every night.

 _"The pictures we are showing to you are from the numerous devastating tragedies the motorcycle races have brought to our once fair city over the past three years. Last night's race was another prime example. A massive accident involving two motorcyclists became the forefront of one of the biggest collisions to date._ (A video of a huge pile up of motorcycles popped on the screen. Red and blue flashing lights illuminated the brick walls while uniformed men held flashlights to inspect the enormous pile of twisted metal and wheels. Another shot of the camera showed a haphazardly drawn Ladybug graffiti on the wall near the bikes.) _From what investigators have gathered, two cyclists, one confirming to be the illustrious Ladybug, collided together in a small alleyway near Avenue Montaigne. The wreck caused a massive pileup of bikes; however, none of the bodies were discovered in the wreckage. Police assume – from the number of bikes – this was yet another attempt from Ladybug to save those forced to participate in this deadly game. Could this be more proof that these motorcyclists are the missing young adults from three years ago? Where could these bikers possibly go after disappearing? And, the most important question of all, who is Ladybug?_

There was a hitch in his stomach as his father’s face appeared on the screen.

_"During the press meeting with Mayor Gabriel Agreste this morning, he is quoted saying, 'This abomination has become a black suffocating cloud for the streets and for the innocent people caught in the crossfire. It is time to put an end to this once and for all.' When asked what that could possibly mean, Monsieur Agreste replied with ‘no comment’. The Mayor is scheduled to give another speech tomorrow at 2:00pm in front of the Paris most famous museum Le Louvre._

Adrien swallowed the thickness in his throat and tried to keep the distaste from twisting on his lips. His father. Gabriel Agreste. Someone who Adrien had once tried so tirelessly to impress in his youth, but learned the hard way he never would. No one could match Gabriel Agreste’s expectations – especially his disgraceful, runaway son.

(A dark-haired woman with it cropped short at her ears appeared on the screen standing in front of a downtown Paris Police station.) _“We have asked the private investigators of the Parisian Police Department why it is taking so long to find the leader of this dangerous game. So far, there have been no leads. We were informed a long debate was held between the Mayor and the Head of Representatives to decide if the Commandement des Opérations Spéciales should be involved in the investigation. The Mayor stated he was doing everything he could to get to the bottom of this and government involvement might further escalate the criminal organization to higher extremes. But the questions remain: where are these missing people? Why are they forced into this hazardous lifestyle? Again if anyone knows anything with the situation behind these races, Ladybug, or the kidnapped, the Parisian Police Department encourages you to call-"_

Adrien was jerked away from the television as a stranger joined the stool right beside him. He was an odd-looking man, older than Adrien. A very tall and thin frame, a black bowler hat perched lopsided on his head. Despite his suit and tie, he looked like someone who had just run four miles and wasn't used to the exercise. He was panting and sweating. Adrien had decided to ignore the stranger, until…

"You're early,” the man whispered in an unreasonably tense voice. Adrien quirked an eyebrow and glanced around. He saw no one else except for the couple at the table behind him. "I expected you to be bigger."

"Bigger?" he answered, his green eyes zipping towards Nino. His friend was busy typing in an order on the computer.

"I was kind of hoping you wouldn't be here to be honest."

Adrien really didn't know how to reply to that.

"I guess I’m always here," he said with a shrug, "where else would I be?"

"I'm so sweaty and nervous. I'll never understand people like you." The stranger glanced at Adrien’s face and shook his head. "You look so calm."

"It's the low blood pressure." _Is this man drunk?_ Adrien wondered briefly. Studying the man, he noticed the sharp flick of the stranger's eyes, the way he twitched slightly every time the commercials from the television made a loud noise, the straightness of his back as if he was hunted by a prowling lion. _Not drunk, but probably on drugs_ , he confirmed. _Should I try to help him?_

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Adrien asked politely. The man blinked.

"Oh, right. The stuff." The man reached for a leather folding briefcase that was sitting innocently beside his stool leg and fished out a closed manila package. Placing it on the counter between the two of them with a shaky hand, the man said, "This is half. The rest once the job is complete."

Trying to keep the utterly lost expression off his face, Adrien brushed a blond hair out of his eye before swallowing the growing lump in his throat. Reaching hesitantly, he pulled the small, thick package slowly towards him with apprehensive fingers. The sweaty stranger nodded and bent to pick up his briefcase. "Your agency knows the number. My contractors will be waiting for the call once it's finished." With a slight trip on his own two feet, the man ungracefully bowed to Adrien and practically ran out of the bar.

Needless to say, Adrien’s stomach was in knots as his green eyes swiveled back to the package under his fingers. Nino was nowhere to be seen.

Inhaling through his mouth, Adrien broke the seal on the package and looked inside. He felt like he was kicked in the stomach. Ten large bundles of hundreds were rubber-banded together. He calculated instantly. One hundred thousand euros. Reaching swiftly, the blond took a long drink from his beer before reaching in and pulling out a small envelope that was tucked next to the money.

Placing the package on the counter, he flipped open the envelope and reached inside. He blinked. It was a picture of a young woman. She wasn't looking at the camera – which suggested the shot was taken without her knowing. She was standing right outside what appeared to be a small, old apartment complex. Adrien’s green eyes narrowed as he studied the picture. She must have been thinking about something amusing because she had a very small smile on her face, almost carefree. She had black hair which was pulled into twin pigtails at her neck. A black fringe draped prettily above her clear, blue bell eyes. She was thin, but shapely – dressed in tight, dark red leather pants and a deep raven crop top. Coupled with a short leather jacket, she looked almost like a criminal. He drew the photo closer to his face, his green eyes studying her in fascination. The more he looked at her, the more he realized how pretty she was. She had certain elegance to her that he couldn't describe. Turning the photo over, he read a scrawled print:

_"Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Boulangerie Patisserie. No evidence."_

Slipping the photo into the front pocket of his flannel shirt, Adrien wrinkled the envelope in his shaking fist. Closing up the manila package with the money, he saw Nino appear from the back carrying plates of food. He wondered if he should say anything to his friend. What should he do? Call the police? What exactly was going on here? Did someone want this woman dead? Who was that tall, sweaty guy? Did he mistake Adrien for someone else? Some kind of hit-man of sorts?

He was so distracted, he hardly noticed another man come to sit beside him.

"You're early," the man said in a low voice and turned to him with a wide smile gracing his thin lips.

Adrien jumped and glanced over at the newcomer. This new guy immediately set Adrien’s danger instincts on overdrive. His dark hair slicked into a tight bun at the back of his head, his amber eyes twinkled with an overlying good-nature. Adrien read behind it. He saw what was beyond the eyes. The man's soul was black. Evil.

"You're thinner than I imagined. And…" he glanced at Adrien’s flannel shirt, "…more blue-collar."

His heart pounded with fear. His stomach churned with the anxiety he'd felt all day. Picking up his beer, Adrien drained it. He felt the man's amber eyes watching his every movement. _How can someone's eyes be so violent?_ He thought with a shiver.

"I'm sorry," Adrien said once he'd swallowed the last drop. "I've been sent here to inform you that the contract has been terminated." He pushed the manila package towards the man. "This is half the payment just for the trouble. That should be more than enough to please your employers. The deal is off."

He tried to keep his face calm and prayed that his bullshit story was acceptable. It had been a long time since Adrien had had to use his old charm and tricks.

"Oh?" The stranger's eyebrows rose and his smile grew wider. "I didn't think that the contract could be broken."

"Yes, I thought so, too, but I just got the call from my superiors." Adrien made sure his breathing was slow. Adrenaline pulsed through his body and he willed his muscles to stay relaxed. "They've targeted the wrong person."

The man laughed happily and shook his head. "That's no matter to me. I'll do my job with or without upfront payment. I'm sure my agency would have informed me if there were any changes."

Adrien tried to keep the frustration off his face. "There isn't any reason to kill her. I'm paying you off with one hundred thousand. Half of what was promised for not doing anything."

The man leaned his cheek on his palm and his grin lowered slightly. Adrien immediately wondered what happened to people when the smile was gone. With an inner shudder, he realized he didn't want to know.

"Unfortunately, middleman, I have the information on the target already sent from your corporation. I only need to meet you for the money and the target's current location. Interesting that you want this contracted terminated. Never had that happen before. Usually the middleman is someone of few words. Are you new to this?"

Adrien remained silent. He didn't know how to reply. The man smirked and got up from his stool. "Tell your _employers_ that they can call my agency and cancel anytime they wish. In the meantime, I have a job to do and I intend to see it through." With a happy amber-eyed wink, he turned and practically glided out the door like a silent wind.

Adrien sat quietly looking at the glass window of Nino’s bar. Slowly, he retrieved his phone from his pocket. He was just about to dial the two on 1-1-2 when he saw the man pull out into the street in a police car.

The man was a damn cop.

With a fist clenching in his lap, Adrien put his phone back into his pocket and reached into his shirt for the picture of the woman. Whoever this Marinette Dupain-Cheng was, she was not going to be around much longer. With a deep breath, Adrien felt a strange strength replace his anxiety and run a course through his muscles.

"Not if Chat Noir has anything to say about it." His green eyes studied her beautiful, smiling face.

At last, he found his purpose.


	2. Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug meets her Black Cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gina Dupain is the name of Marinette's grandmother. Thank you, Befana episode!

Alya Lahiffe sat at the small sofa with calm surprise written on her tan face. Her glasses perched on her nose, her legs crossed with a foot swinging in the air, she quirked an eyebrow at him. Adrien rubbed his tired eyes and sighed. Despite the fierce urge to track down this Marinette Dupain-Cheng immediately, he knew he needed to take a few steps before he ventured into the danger. If this assassin was as thorough as Adrien predicted, he'd eventually know Adrien’s name, place of employment, and closest friends. He’d tossed his phone as soon as he’d rushed out of Nino’s pub. It was necessary. He could very well already be tracked. It was a risk even coming here.

Since Adrien had been publicly disowned by his father, he hoped that would be enough to keep the assassin’s gaze away from Gabriel Agreste. Considering he was a political figure, his father was probably the safest individual in the entire city. He brushed away any and all concern for his father.

Adrien had more important people to protect - such as the woman sitting in front of him.

"So," she started, folding her arms over her chest and tossing her chestnut ombre locks over one shoulder. "If a man with dark hair pulled into a bun comes to the door I should tell him that we don't know you?"

"Exactly. Call Nino and tell him that if he gets approached to say that I'm just some punk that comes to the bar for a drink from time to time. Tell him to say I'm boring." The blond-haired man shifted his feet on the fluffy white carpet. His instincts were telling him he needed to leave soon if he wanted to get to the girl in time. "Please do this for me. I don't want anyone getting hurt."

"This guy. Is he going to _hurt_ you?" Alya’s face sharpened and her spine grew ramrod straight against the couch. She was getting into soldier mode. "I'll come with you, Adrien. You need someone watching your back if this is that dangerous. Rena Rouge will be-"

"You've been in enough danger to last three lifetimes. Stay here with Sophie and call Nino." Adrien commanded, staring her right in the eye. She met his gaze unflinchingly. "If you want to fall back to the old days, call it an order from your superior officer."

"Adrien, you are practically my brother. You are godfather to our little girl. You are part of my family. You're telling me that I can't help you. Do you understand how impossible this is for me?"

"Back in the day, I would have welcomed Rena in a heartbeat, but not anymore, Alya. You have something precious to protect. And I…" he stopped and unthinkingly put a hand over his pocket where the girl's picture was resting. "I must do this alone."

The woman pierced her cobalt eyes at him. Finally, she lowered her gaze and stood up. Walking over to a hallway closet, she opened it and pulled out several boxes from the top. "Alright, you alley cat, if you won't take my help then take this instead." Alya yanked out a thin wooden box and strolled back over to Adrien. He took the case and opened the lid.

"Your .45 ACP. This is your favorite pistol. I didn't know you still had it."

A shadow passed over her face. A recollection of memories. "I kept more than just that when we left. Besides, I couldn’t let my baby go. That gun saved my life so many times. There's extra ammo in the bottom compartment. Just lift right here."

“What do you mean you ‘kept more’?” Adrien asked with a quirked eyebrow.

She gave him a furtive smile. "Ah, you heard that, did you?"

“Alya…”

“Just come back here if you’re in need of anything more… _leathery?_ ”

Adrien's mouth popped open coupled in surprise and disapproval. "You can’t be serious… you _kept_ them? Whose?"

She shrugged and tossed her locks almost haughtily. "Mine, Nino's, your's - what does it matter? Just the simpler models. They haven't even been missed."

"They are  _government_ property - making this  _stealing_.”

The chestnut-haired woman raised a hand, her hips tilting and arms crossing over her chest once more. Adrien could practically see the fox suit on her. “If I recall correctly, Chat, you were a bit softer when it came to rules back in the day." Alya snorted. "You gonna report me?"

"Of course, not!" 

"Great!" Alya chirped cheerfully, before reaching up to pat his shoulder. "Look, call me a sentimental fool, but I had a feeling something was going to happen. Someday we would be needed again. But for now, take the pistol.”

“What if he comes to attack and you don’t have a gun?"

"You think I can't handle myself without one little pistol? If you remember, we are all _human_ weapons, too." He watched her lift her hands and crack her knuckles. "I'd feel so much better if you had her. You remember how to shoot a gun, right? Just point and fire."

Closing the lid, he shut his eyes for a moment. "I'll take it, but make sure to do everything I've asked. You don't know me. I'm just a recurring customer."

"What if whoever they are taps into military files? What if they learn who you were? What you've done?"

A corner of Adrien’s lips lifted and a sharpness reflected in his seagreen eyes. Alya could have sworn his pupils were thinner than normal in that moment.

"They'll realize how much of a mistake they made handing me that package."  
  


* * *

   
Fu sat at the cafe table, his small hands clasp around a cup of steaming tea. The bakery door faced west, showcasing the beautiful orange sunset and busy street. The ancient patisserie was surprisingly spotless and well-kept for how dated all of the cooking equipment was. A stained-glass hanging lamp flickered on and off above his graying head as he met the older woman's glare sitting in front of him. Her short-cropped hair and leather jacket made Gina Dupain resemble her granddaughter in more ways than one. Tucked in his favorite red Hawaiian shirt and tan shorts, he took a small sip and let the jasmine flavor settle his patience for the upcoming tide of an age old argument.

“Got a call from Tikki from the Orphanage, Fu.” The woman’s Italian accent was practically dripping with accusation. “You made my Marinette race with an absent moon in the sky, didn’t you?”

Fu sighed slowly and set his tea on the table. “Gina, you don’t understand. She had to-”

“You know we need to heed Tikki’s predictions!” The old woman snarled so suddenly, Fu sat back in his chair. “How could you do this?”

“A race was called. I took a risk. The Ladybug flew well last night.”

“I know this will have repercussions! And it will be your damned fault!”

"Ladybug survived, didn't she?"

"Ladybug may have been successful, but _Marinette_ narrowly escaped becoming a casualty in that hideous alleyway disaster - and don't you dare tell me otherwise!" Fu had opened his mouth to retort and found himself closing his lips with a snap. "This is my only family member I have left. Tom and Sabine would not have wanted their sacrifice to be in vain…” Gina stopped and closed her eyes with a weary sigh. “This mission of yours has become more perilous by the year. I cannot have Marinette risking her life."

"Marinette is _saving_ lives," the Chinese man forced his voice to stay calm and full of reason. "We were able to get seven from that crash last night. That is seven human lives that will no longer be under Hawkmoth’s thumb. Seven that will no longer be tortured by their Masters. Wayzz has already started working on removing the collars at the Orphanage. Why don't you see how important this is?"

"Don't you understand that she will lose her life in these races? Don't you notice how close she gets to getting discovered by Hawkmoth every single time she races? He’s looking for Ladybug, Fu! As the pot grows thinner, she’ll be spotted! She flies too well on that bike of hers! She’s obviously not a brainless akuma!"

"Marinette is aware of the risks. She is old enough to think for herself. We would have no way of saving anyone without her. She is our Ladybug."

Gina glared at Fu and her shoulders scrunched up angrily. "She'll never back out of it unless you tell her, you old fool! If you hadn’t called her in all those years ago, hadn’t gotten her obsessed with saving the world, she would’ve had a chance at a normal life! My Marinette deserves to live as much as any akuma!”

Fu’s eyebrows knocked together as he felt his temper rise. "Akumas, no, _humans_ deserve a chance, Gina, and she is willing to give it to them!”

Gina continued as if not listening. “Not only is she risking her life for you, but to not listen to what Tikki has predicted-”

“This is not about Tikki or her predictions! This is about Marinette!”

"Yes! This is about my _granddaughter_!" Gina’s voice rose with each word uttered.

The old man stopped. Swallowing down his rising frustration, he gritted his teeth behind his lips and let his temper cool. Ultimately, Gina was right. She always was. But this was important. Too important to listen to wise words.

With the akumas free and the Masters disqualified, they’ll be closer than ever to Hawkmoth – and his identity.

"Grandma, my bike is built for collisions. That’s how we throw them off the Master’s control during races. I’ll be just fine."

Fu’s dark eyes turned to see the object of their fight making her way into the kitchen from the hallway. Judging from her rumpled hair, which was hanging loose over her shoulders, her pink tank-top, and pajama shorts, she'd just woken up. Rubbing her blue bell eyes with the palms of her hands, she gave Gina a tired smile. "Besides, we cannot risk getting disqualified. Fu did the right thing by calling me last night."

“Seven,” Fu piped up with a shine of pride at the girl. “ _Seven_ akuma.”

Marinette let out a long yawn. “I know. Wasn’t easy. I always feel bad I can’t help more.”

Fu nodded approvingly. “You helped free them, Marinette. Wayzz can take care of escorting them to the Orphanage. We can’t risk someone tracking you in the game.”

“But there was so many this time. It was a good thing Wayzz brought Tikki along.”

Gina scowled. “Tikki is the _last_ person who needs to be out picking up akuma. She told me she almost got squashed when one of those bikes collapsed in the alleyway.”

Marinette rolled her eyes at that. “You and your phone calls. It’s a wonder if anything ever gets done.”

“As a matter of fact, she called me because she had another vision.”

At this, both Marinette and Fu shot surprised looks at each other before turning to Gina worriedly.

“Grandma, what was it?-”

“You should have said something-”

Gina, obviously enjoying the attention, gave them both a solid smirk before replying, “She said she saw the black cat again.”

As one, the old man and raven-haired girl sighed with disinterest.

“Back at it again with the black cat,” Marinette muttered with a shake of her head. “Honestly, she’s been having that vision for over two years now. You’d think the world would stop giving her false hope about this _hero_.”

Gina sniffed. “She says he’s clearer than ever. That she could almost see his face. He was holding you against him, protecting you in a shadowy place. His eyes were glowing green.”

“I think Tikki has read too many young adult novels cooped up in that Orphanage,” Marinette chimed and Fu let out a small chuckle. “This _black cat_ has really taken his time. Two _years_ … Besides, I don’t see any man with glowing green eyes beating down my door lately. Is she _sure_ this person isn’t Nathaniel? He has green eyes.”

"I sure hope not!" Gina injected shrilly. “That young man has the personality of a crack in the wall!”

Marinette’s hands fell on her hips in defense. “Grandma! He’s quiet and shy! He’s actually really polite. _And_ he does fantastic finger paintings. It’s a wonder he can be so coordinated considering what the akuma collar did to his brain. He’s very helpful around the Orphanage when new people come in. He always does his best to help and I won’t have you speaking badly about him.”

“Even though he made your grandma the villain in his new comic,” Fu snorted under his breath.

Gina scowled at him.

“Well, black cats aside, not only do we have seven new to the Orphanage, I heard only three of the Masters who lost their akuma last night can afford another one,” Fu said, swiftly turning the conversation back to the original topic. “The pot has narrowed further and we will be busy with preparations. I will be in Hawkmoth’s inner circle before long. We need top surveillance from Wayzz, possibly a new van for equipment, and your bike has to be ready to go encase another race is spontaneously called.”

“And then Hawkmoth’s true identity will be revealed,” Marinette nodded, “showcased to the world.”

“And if no one believes you?” Gina pursed her lips.

Fu’s eyes narrowed. “I only need one shot – one bullet to destroy the puppet master. That, in turn, will destroy the puppets under his control. That will topple his kingdom to the ground."

"But what if he _does_ see you coming?" The old woman’s voice was less than a whisper.

The bakery fell silent, the words drinking in slowly. The honks from outside could be heard as the afternoon slowly bled into evening.

“I say if you want to peg Hawkmoth so badly, you race those damn crazy people on your own moped and blinky collar and let her live her life for herself, Fu!"

“That’s a fun image. Maybe he can wear my leather pants as well!” Marinette laughed.

A small chime rang and Fu felt his pocket vibrate. Withdrawing the phone, he read the text with a sinking heart. “From Wayzz,” he announced. “The collars are a new type. He’s having trouble deactivating them. He said he’d have Nathaniel call my cell if there’s any progress. So far, he’s only managed to free one akuma. And the girl is practically comatose.”

“ _God_ …” Marinette closed her eyes tightly. “Is there no end to his cruelty? Those poor children practically taken from their beds and completely brainwashed into slaves…” Looking up, she caught Gina and Fu staring at her and she straightened her shoulders. "We'll win this for them. Hawkmoth thinks he can control the city and call himself ruler? He thinks he can hide behind his precious police department and get away with kidnap and murder? Once we gain access into his inner circle, we'll blow them all away. Better yet, we'll just strap those collars on them and let them see how it feels to be an akuma. They'll have to kill me-"

_DING DONG_

She blinked in surprise. Glancing at Gina, who had her gray eyebrows raised in wonder, she felt Fu’s small hand grab her wrist tightly.

_DING DONG_

All three pairs of eyes traveled to the entryway which led to the family room where the front door was. Slowly, she plucked the old man's hand off of her arm and nodded. "I'll answer it."

"You're not fit to be seen wearing that!" Gina hissed.

Fu scowled, but turned to Marinette, "What if it's Hawkmoth’s men? What if you were followed last night?"

"It can’t be," Marinette said rolling her eyes. "We are just being paranoid."

"Even if it isn't, you should wear the collar. It wouldn’t be suspicious if the Ambassador from Hong Kong is simply sitting in a bakery with his akuma, right?"

_DING DONG- DING DONG- DIIIIIING DONG_

"I'll get the collar," she agreed and hurried towards her hanging bag near the bakery door. Fishing it out, she strapped it on as she marched out of the kitchen. Bare feet thumping on the runway carpet lining, she headed to the front room and leaned into the door to look through the peep-hole. She saw the form of a man with longish golden hair and tanned skin. He was dressed in a deep red flannel shirt that was tucked into slightly dirty jeans.

She blinked. It was weird how he looked as if he was modelling the dirty outfit more than just simply standing there. She couldn’t see his face clearly, which was ducked low and looking from side to side. It made her instantly suspicious.

"Who are you?" She called from the door, trying to keep her voice emotionless. Like an akuma.

The man looked at the door in surprise and she finally saw his face. Her mouth popped open. The only word that came to her mind was ‘perfect’. His eyes were brilliant green like a fresh cut field. His blond hair fell in a side-swoop over his forehead. His mouth, which was a worried line at the moment, made him look intense. As if everything in the world that mattered to him was behind this door. It was a knee-buckling look.

"My name is Adrien. I'm here… because well…" he glanced left and right once more, "I have learned something recently and I think it involves someone living here."

He had such a nice tenor voice. It was very honest sounding and went perfectly with his flawless looks. Just like someone she'd instantly trust. Marinette shook her head swiftly to focus and forced herself to be vigilant in her skepticism. A prowling lion could come to her door in sheep’s skin.

"Look. Could you please just let me in? This is really important."

"Don't let him in, child. This is suspicious." Fu’s hurried whisper rang behind her. The old, short man was standing at her back with a shotgun in his hands. She frowned and shooed him with her fingers. That's when she noticed her grandma standing at the living room window peeking through the curtains.

"Oh, my word. That man is gorgeous!"

"Grandma, get back in the bakery, and Fu, put that shotgun away!” Marinette ordered forgetting to lower her voice.

"I'm not leaving if you open this door!" The old man declared as Gina said, "I'm not leaving until you open this door!"

Both old people shot each other a glare.

"Um…" the poor man waiting on the doorstep injected, “I just want to explain. Please, open it and I'll talk right here. I don't need to come in."

"Do it!" Her grandma nodded. She turned around to head back down the hallway. "I have a good feeling about him. Bring him to the bakery. And for God's sake put some proper clothes on afterwards!"

Marinette blushed.

“I’ll speak to you if you remain outside,” she called, not bothering to keep up with the akuma charade. As she began flipping the four deadbolts unlocked, she silenced Fu’s stuttering complaint with a pointed glare and gestured to the bakery with her head.

The old man tossed her a worried look before lowering his shotgun and begrudgingly going back.

Opening the door with her heart in her throat, she swallowed down a sudden flurry of nerves that attacked her stomach _._

What if she’d doomed them all by opening this door?

What if he’d kill her and then move on to kill Fu and Grandma?

What if this was a mistake?

Her hands seemed to move on automatic as she peeked around the doorway to meet his green eyes. As soon their gaze met, his face grew into a breathtaking smile of relief. Marinette’s mouth fell back open as every thought wiped away.

Why was he so _pretty_? It almost wasn’t fair.

"I found you first. Thank God!" he breathed, "I've been so worried that I didn't make it in time."

"What are you talking about?" Marinette asked, her stalled brain trying to keep up with the present. "Found me first? I don't even know you."

"It's kind of hard to explain, but I'll try my best." The man – Adrien – stepped up closer to the doorway and looked down at her with green eyes falling serious. "I've been trying to think through different ways of breaking this to you, but I guess the best thing to do is be completely honest. I was mistaken for an assassin and given orders to kill you. Then, the real assassin came and he mistook me for the one delivering the information. You are in great danger here. I'm sure whoever hired him has already figured out that I somehow intercepted the mission and has given him all the information he needs to find you."

"Oh." Her brain fell flat again – this time for an entirely different reason. The nerves crawled to her throat and were making it almost hard to breath. "I… don't really understand what you just said."

"Please, believe me. I'm here to help you." The man took a step closer to the door with a pleading look.

Suddenly, her thoughts were unleashed and sprinting at breakneck speeds. What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Someone was after her? Did that mean Hawkmoth knew who she was? Did they know the entire thing? That meant Fu was in danger, too. His ‘Ambassador’ cover was completely blown. When did this happen? How were they discovered?

Had these long years of attempted infiltration been a complete waste of time?

She was instantly awakened by a loud scream and two echoing _BANGs_ coming from the back of the house. Turning from the door, Marinette ran on auto-pilot past the living room and down the hallway towards the bakery. The hallway passed by her as if in slow motion. Her feet felt like they were being pulled by invisible hands on the floor.

"Hey, wait!" she heard the stranger call out, but she didn't even acknowledge him.

 _Grandma… Fu…_ she thought as the shadow of fear crossed her mind. Her feet pounded their names. _Grandma… Fu… Grandma… Fu…_

With a stumble, she turned left and stood at the doorway. Her feet touched warm liquid where a pool of red was starting to travel past the doorway. Her grandma lay flat on the ground right in front of her. The woman's wrinkled arms spread out, her legs unnaturally bent. The locks of her short gray hair were quickly soaking in the blood of her partially missing face. Glancing up, her world was spinning, Fu was on top of another table, sputtering at her through bloody lips.

A man with his hair swept into a tight bun was standing at the open bakery door, a brilliant smile stretched on his lips. The man turned towards her, a gun in his hand.

Suddenly, she felt strong arms grab her from behind, pull her into the hallway, and she hit the floor.


	3. Ladybug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Black Cat joins the race

"Hey, wait!" Adrien yelled, his heart skipping a beat. Pushing the door all the way open with a steady hand, the blond saw the girl run down a long hallway. He felt his old cat-like reflexes kick in as he hurried through the threshold after her. His heart rate sped up only five paces. His body was instantly limber and his muscles relaxed. Despite the years out of service, he still had the reflexes of a soldier.

He was still Chat Noir.

The girl stopped short at her left and stood still at a doorway. Her lips were open in a silent gasp of horror. Her blue eyes frosted almost in a trance.

 _In shock_ , Adrien immediately diagnosed as he ran up beside her. He noticed the blood trailing from the door.

He followed his instincts.

"Get down!" he shouted and grabbed her stiff body against him. Pulling her away from the doorway and onto the floor, he heard the familiar repeated pings of bullets firing from a silencer. He shielded her with his body as the bullets whistled through the thin sheet rock walls and stuck in the wooden paneling on the other side of the hallway. There was a breath of silence that followed.

 _Run!_ His mind hollered and he instantly jumped to his feet. Pulling her up by her arms, he held tight on her wrist and raced out of the hallway; fully aware of how easy a target they both were in this particular position. With his free hand, he knocked over an old coat hanger as well as a small shelf standing by the doorway behind them. He felt more than heard the wind pressure of the singing bullets dancing around their bodies. _Get to the car. Get to the car._ He repeated in his head. They both ran hard out the open doorway and he pulled her towards his haphazardly parked white Renault in the alley. He let go of her hand to yank open the passenger side and push her in.

Slamming her door, Adrien leapt like a cat over the hood and heard a tell-tale ping of several bullets violently pelting into the side of his car. He was in the driver’s side within seconds and pressing the gas.

“Duck your head down!” he commanded, grabbing the back of her head and forcing it to her knees. He peeled over the side to the front of the bakery and ignored the squealing honks from other vehicles. Tossing from lane to lane, he frowned as his mind worked through the various routes to take. Get out of the city? East was probably the safest route. He needed a new car first though-

"What… what…" The girl was gasping at her knees. She was indeed the same girl that he'd seen in the picture. Her tumbled black hair draped over her pale face. He saw her blue eyes wide and staring at her blood-stained bare feet.

"Are you shot?" His breathing was slow and even. Even his voice sounded calm. He took a wild turn to cross the Seine and she gasped. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

She shook her head slowly. Adrien felt a wash of relief come over him. "You can raise your head if you want. Once we get out of the city, we'll be safe for a while." Flexing his fingers over the steering wheel, he stayed quiet while she gradually sat back up against the seat.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered. She closed her blue eyes and her skin looked deathly pale.

"I need you to try and breathe as steady as you can. You're in shock," Adrien said gently as he pushed the gas pedal down even harder. He took a sharp turn and the wheels squealed. "Keep breathing deeply. If you need to throw up, go ahead. I'll have to get a new car anyway. He's bound to track the license plate number. He's in a cop car."

She made a strange gagging noise and shook her head, her black hair falling across her cheeks. "I don't have anything in my stomach to throw up. Did you say a _cop_ is after me?"

He yanked the wheel to the right and bled past a stop light. "He's in a cop car, but not in uniform. I have no idea what is going on, but it looks like I came right in the nick of time."

The girl – Marinette – was silent for a moment. "How did you find me? Who are you?"

Adrien reached into his pocket and pulled out her picture. "The first guy gave me this. The address – the bakery you were just at – it's written on the back."

She looked at the photo for several minutes. Waiting for her reply, Adrien finally wormed his way out of the market streets and onto a steady highway headed east. He still didn't like it. There was traffic - but at least there would be traffic for the assassin as well.

"This was taken before I left for the race last night," she finally murmured. A tear slipped down from her wide blue eyes and she wiped it away with a furious hand. She handed him back the picture and he tucked it back in the front pocket of his shirt. The picture belonged more to her than to him, but he kept it anyway. "There wasn't a moon in the sky. Grandma was right about Tikki’s prediction. They probably figured it out once the Masters were narrowed down. And that means… everything was a total waste of time. And now …"

Adrien didn't think it was possible, but her face grew even paler.

"Don't try to reason it out right now," he said calmly. Nothing she was saying made sense anyway. Wanting to comfort her in some small way, he reached out his hand, gently touched her shoulder, and gave it a small squeeze. She was shivering under his palm.

"There’s a coat in the backseat. You can put it on if you’re cold."

He put his hand back on the wheel and still felt the warmth of her skin on his fingers. Marinette nodded and turned to fished out his old brown jacket he used at work on cold mornings.

Adrien didn't know why, but he suddenly felt embarrassed.

"Actually, that might be a bad idea. It probably doesn't smell too good. I work in construction and I tend to sweat it in."

"I don't care," she murmured, wrapping the coat around her body. Buckling her seatbelt, she curled herself on the seat facing him. He heard her sniffle and met her large bluebell eyes staring at him. His embarrassment shift to nervousness. How was it he was able to dodge bullets, but he could hardly stand to be looked at by a girl?

Pathetic.

"Can you talk to me? I don't even know who you are," she whispered, wiping her eyes again with the sleeve of his coat. She looked tiny wrapped in it.

"Likewise," he answered, "the only thing I know about you was on that picture. I don't even know why you are being targeted."

"The races…" her voice was quiet. Adrien waited for more, but she was silent.

"My name is Adrien Agreste," he started.

“Agreste? Like the Mayor?”

“...Yeah,” his voice was a little colder than he meant, “he’s my father - or… was? It’s complicated. Anyway, I guess you could say I was in the wrong place at the right time.”

He shot her a small smile and tried to calm his twisting stomach as her blue eyes burrowed into his face. "I was at a local pub when I was approached by the man that had your picture. He also gave me one hundred thousand euros and said that the other half would be paid once the job was finished. Not even minutes after he left, that bun-haired bastard showed up and thought I was the one handling the information and payment. I tried to convince him the deal was off. Even tried paying him with the money I'd gotten. I don't think I did a very good job convincing him. I realized he'd go after you no matter what I said. After that, he left and…" he paused and decided not to tell her about his conversation with Alya, "… and I came to the address. You answered the door."

"Why?" she whispered.

He pressed on the pedal once more as traffic cleared further and started zipping around the cars on the freeway. He flipped on his headlights. "Why, what?"

"Why did you come?" Her blue eyes were piercing. "Do you realize he'll try to kill you now? This cop assassin knows your face."

"Would you believe me if I told you I had nothing better to do this evening?" he grimaced. "Ahem, bad joke, sorry."

"I don't know you. You don't know me. You risked your life for a complete stranger that is targeted for something you have no idea is about. Why would you come to help me?"

Adrien scratched the side of his nose. "I have my own reasons. For now, just believe that I'm here to help you and that I know what I'm doing."

She finally closed her eyes and he felt himself relax. "I trust you. If you wanted to kill me, you would have let that guy do it. If you were a bad person, you wouldn't have come in the first place. So, if you are going to stick around, I need you to take me somewhere."

Adrien immediately shook his head. "I'm sure anywhere you want to go is where the assassin is headed next. He's a cop, remember? He’s probably got eyes everywhere.”

“That’s all the more reason to go.”

“Trust me, mademoiselle, it's better to just steer clear of familiar places until we come up with a proper plan."

"No, I have to warn them." She straightened up out of the coat and turned her eyes to the darkening street. "You'll need to turn around on this highway. Head west instead of east."

"I can't agree to that. Not until I understand what the hell is going on."

"Turn the car around and I'll tell you." She looked at him with a sudden brilliant spark in her bright eyes.

Adrien knew that spark. And he both really liked it and really hated it.

This girl was an obvious fighter. But that could also mean reckless. He didn’t want to take her anywhere that was probably the most obvious place she’d go next.

But he needed to compromise. Against his better judgment, he said, "Alright, I'll turn around, but I'm not taking you all the way there until I understand what you are being hunted for, get it? And even then, I'll decide if it is safe."

She was silent. Her entire body looked stiff. Finally, she exhaled out of her nose.

"Fine. Start getting over and begin the questions."

"Who are we going to see?" Adrien immediately asked. He turned on his blinker, pulled to the right, and got in line to exit the highway.

"The akuma. And those that take care of them.”

“Akuma?”

“They are mindless slaves that serve their Masters will - whether they want to or not. They are controlled by collars. We steal them from their Masters and free them - but… it’s always a gamble if they are able to come back to us. Many of them are left mentally handicapped. There are some who have defaulted collars and Wayzz actually has gotten so much better at detaching the-”

“Wait, wait, wait, this is a lot of information. Stealing slaves? What are you talking about?”

Suddenly, everything clicked.

“The races,” he realized, “the ones where the bikers disappear. The ones that have been going on for years. That’s what you’re into? Wait. Does that mean you’re… you’re…” His mind flicked to the picture in his pocket. Dark red leather pants, crop-top, black leather jacket, the Ladybug graffitti...

She glanced at him and a flash of strength seemed to sizzle from her as her shoulders straightened.

“Yes. I’m Ladybug.”

A shiver ran down Adrien’s spine and goosebumps rose on his arms and legs.

That’s what this was about. The races. He had rescued Ladybug. The _actual_ Ladybug. The vigilante herself. It made sense now why the police were hunting her. Why they were asking for more information on her after every news report. The police were corrupted. Working for the ones who operated the entire thing.

And she was in the middle of it all fighting from the shadows.

He glanced at her with this information circling in his head. He could see why she had the spark of a fighter. He could see the toughness, the strength, the courage. Adrien felt a tightness in his chest and almost gasped when she suddenly looked his way. He immediately focused back on the road and frowned inwardly at his reaction.  

“Fu…" Her soft voice caught, but she took a deep breath and kept going. “He posed as a fake Master and infiltrated the Master’s circle. The ones Hawkmoth deemed worthy of owning an akuma. I was his akuma in the races.” Her small fingers grasped at her neck and she pulled off a leather collar with wires on it. Adrien hadn’t even noticed her wearing it. “It was my job to cause problems in the field. Rewire bikes, cause collisions, distractions - anything to give Wayzz enough time to come in and disconnect the akuma from their Master’s control. Once in a while, I’d try to win a race to further Fu’s status. We got seven akuma last night. The Masters are thinning out. We had finally thought we’d gained the upper hand, but...”

She stopped and closed her eyes tightly. “B-but Fu is dead now, so it doesn’t matter anymore.” Her hands trembled and her grip on the collar tightened so that her knuckles turned white. Adrien resisted the immediate urge to reach out for her.

"So, you'd sneak into these races, free slaves, and then what?" he asked, both trying to get her back on the subject and distract himself from the idiot notion of wanting to hold her hand.

"We’d take them to the Orphanage and disconnect them from the collars," she replied with her sharp blue eyes still closed.

Adrien slid into the u-turn and joined the traffic headed west. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“There are about five people who joined together after their siblings or friends were taken three years ago. Wayzz and Tikki, they are Fu’s niece and nephew, they lost two brothers. Juleka was a childhood friend of mine. She lost her brother. Rose joined us when Juleka did. Caline Bustier had her younger sister taken. She’s the one who built the Orphanage and basically runs our headquarters with Tikki. She takes care of the akuma and tries to rehabilitate them. We have others like Nathaniel who were one of the first people we saved and had defaulting collars on. He doesn’t have his memories.”

“How many have you freed exactly?”

“We know exactly one-hundred children were taken during the kidnapping in Paris. Though several have died over the years from Masters, we believe we have around thirty still under Hawkmoth’s control. We have saved twenty-five in all, but… there are _occasions_ the akuma’s will to live is lost once the collar is off. They refuse to eat, refuse to sleep. They waste away. Twelve have died that way. It’s... heartbreaking. I’m not sure how much more Caline can take.”

“And what about you?” Adrien shifted in his seat to glance at her. “How did you get into this?”

She was quiet for a moment. And then - “I was going to be kidnapped. I was dragged from a bus station. I was with my parents at the time. My father was able to save me, break their hold on my arms, but they shot both my parents dead. I used their distraction to escape. I… left my parents to die.”

He must have had a look of horror on his face because she took a deep breath and had kindness in her voice. “It’s alright. I’ve come to terms with my past. What’s done is done and I can’t bring them back. They sacrificed themselves to save me and now I do everything in my power to save as many people as I can. I know my parents are proud of me - are proud of Ladybug and what she represents.”

A small smile hit her lips and Adrien made the mistake of looking at her in that moment. She looked like her picture - strong, confident, but gentle. He felt his heart speed up to an unnatural pace and his palms began to sweat. Frowning, he grasped the steering wheel harder than he needed to.

_What is the matter with me?_

He was quiet for a moment, both trying to absorb everything she’d said and get control of his irrational feelings.

“So, that being said, we are going to the Orphanage, Monsieur Agreste.”

He started at her voice - and the hard resolve in it.

“I have to warn them. I have to save them. They have become the only family I have left. I can’t abandon them. Not when akuma like Nathaniel have fought so hard and finally have a second chance at living. Not when Wayzz and Tikki and Rose and Juleka and Caline have dedicated their _lives_ -” She stopped and looked out the window at the city coming back slowly into their view. Dusk had finally settled and, as always, the beautiful lights of Paris were as breathtaking as ever. The Eiffel Tower was striking, the dancing lights beginning their evening show. The fading golden sheen on the buildings made the city a blaze of something almost holy.

So much beauty - and yet so much corruption.  

His rationality told him this was a bad idea. He needed to get her as far away from Paris as possible. But her gaze had turned back to him and felt like little pin-pricks on his face. Now that he had the bigger picture, he knew she would never leave even if he dragged her to the east across France’s border.

And Adrien realized there was no way he’d leave her side either.

“Show me the way,” he said quietly.

He could feel the relief coming off of her in waves. Her breath exhaled slowly and a genuine lovely smile reached her lips.

“Thank you, Monsieur Agreste.”

“Please,” he shot her a smile of his own and couldn’t see her blush in the darkness, “call me Adrien.”  


* * *

  
He heard a chirping sound. Theo nudged the old man’s body and searched his pocket. A phone.

_Incoming call from: UNAVAILABLE._

Interesting…

With his grin on his lips, Theo answered the call.

 _“Fu, it’s Nathaniel,”_ the quiet voice of a young man spoke up, _“Wayzz just freed another akuma and you’ll never believe who it is. Juleka’s brother. He remembers everything. He knows his Master’s name. He remembered Juleka and Rose. Called for them as soon as the collar was off. You need to come to the Orphanage now. Let Marinette know he wants to see her… Fu?”_

“Ah, I’m sorry. Fu just recruited me.” Theo gave a sheepish laugh. “I’m helping Ladybug.”

_“Where is Fu?”_

“Oh, he’s with Marinette at the moment. He left his phone on the table.” Theo’s amber eyes slid to the old woman’s broken face and smirked. “I can head over there though. Where is the Orphanage exactly?”

The soft voice was hesitant. He could tell. And then-

_“Fausses Reposes Forêt. Follow the NFO’s western trail. Please make sure to bring Marinette.”_

“Great. See you there.”

_“Y-yes…”_

Ending the call, Theo slipped the old man’s phone into his bag and withdrew his own mini-computer. Whistling a happy tune, he casually flipped in coordinates.


	4. Luka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug meets an old friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caline is Ms. Bustier's first name

"This is where it is?" Adrien asked uneasily as he turned onto another dirt road paved for the National Forest Office Patrol.

Though she had reassured him that the NFO wouldn’t be around during these hours, he still turned on his lowlights and was leaned against the steering wheel like an elderly driver who’d lost their glasses. The tall trees lined the dark pathway, some leaning so far over that they scrapped the top of his car. His bad feeling skyrocketed as his left wheel hit a pothole and she let out small squeal of surprise.

"Sorry about that! I forgot to warn you about the holes in the road."

Adrien sighed. _Curse her blue eyes_ , he thought bitterly, _who knew I was such a sucker?_

"The Orphanage is further back. You'll know when you see it." She started unbuckling her seatbelt and Adrien frowned.

"I'll go in," he said swiftly. "Just in case the assassin is there. I want you to stay in the car where it's safe. If I don't come out in three minutes, you'll need to drive away as fast as you can. And if you do, make sure to find a deserted place and try to pick up another vehicle. Maybe I should have told you how to hotwire a car-"

She exhaled loudly and shot him an annoyed glance. "Look, Monsieur Agreste-"

"Adrien," he immediately corrected.

" _Adrien_ ," she emphasized, "I appreciate you saving my life and risking yours to come find me, but you can't _stop_ me from going in there. These people are my _friends_. I refuse to be treated like some damsel in distress."

 _You are no damsel in distress._ He thought giving her a sideways glance. She was wearing his jacket now, still looking tiny and yet large at the same time. _You cried for about twenty minutes for people who just died right in front of you. Somehow you've forced me of all people to drive you right into danger once more. Probably right into the assassin's hands. You're crazy, but you are no damsel in distress._

"There it is!" She shouted, startling Adrien slightly. He looked out his windshield and noticed a short, one-story building emerging from the tall trees like a haunted cottage. The building was completely dark inside.

The blond man glanced at the clock on his dashboard: _23:10_.

Either it was already bedtime or he had just made a dreadful mistake.

"Is it usually this dark here?" he asked, pulling the car around to the front. The building reeked with ominous foreboding. To his surprise, she nodded.

"We have to. Bright lights can cause panic in newly freed akuma. It’s a safety precaution. They can get violent and hard to control when they’re like that. Hurting themselves or others.”

Adrien put the car into park and she opened the door. He reached out and caught the arm of the jacket as she was trying to leave. She looked at him questioningly.

"Trust me when I say that this is a bad idea, mademoiselle. I have good instincts and they are all telling me to run away from this place right now. I want you to stay behind me at all times. If the assassin shows up, promise me you will do _exactly_ what I say when I say it. Don't question. Just do. Got it?"

Their eyes locked together. He saw the swirls of emotions flashing through her mind. Her blue eyes tightened, but she nodded. Adrien let her go and climbed out of the driver's side. Leading the way to the front door, he felt a small hand grab his fingers and he jumped in surprise.

"Not through the front. There's a side entrance. That's the door I usually take. It's this way." She pulled him to the left, her bare feet crunching the blades of grass. He followed obediently wondering why he was unable to say a word back.

She led him to a dark wooden door just around the corner. Adrien gently pulled her behind him, let go of her hand, and reached into the back of his jeans for Alya’s pistol. Her eyes widened.

"Don't bring that out!" she hissed. "The poor akuma will go crazy!"

"If they are even alive…" he hissed, giving her a frown. He watched her purse her lips, but she looked away.

As Adrien reached to knock on the door, it opened wildly and hit him square in the face. He almost fell to the ground. Catching himself on the brick wall, he held his throbbing nose as a tall, red-haired man ran like a blur out the door and swept up Marinette into his arms.

"Mari! You made it! You got here so fast!" The man was spinning her around, her feet dangling off the ground.

"Nathaniel! You scared me! Put me down!"

Adrien straightened up and tried to blink the tears out of his eyes as the redhead let go of her and her feet landed safely on the ground. Nathaniel put his hands on her shoulders, beaming at her happily. "We've been waiting for you. Wayzz did it.”

“What did Wayzz do?” she asked curiously.

“He freed Luka.”

It felt as if an inaudible gunshot had gone off. Adrien could see the moment every thought was stripped from her. Her blue eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and her hands lifted to press against the sides of her face. Her gaze slipped past Nathaniel and to the open door.

“ _Luka-_ ” she whispered - and brushed past Nathaniel to run into the dark building.

“Wait!” Adrien called and moved to follow her, but was suddenly blocked by a scowling face.

“You’re the new guy, huh? Why didn’t you tell her about Luka like you promised?” The man - Nathaniel - was sporting shoulder length shaggy red hair and stared suspiciously at him through brilliant green eyes. Eyes almost greener than his own.

The blond blinked in surprise. “Wh-what? Tell her about-”

“Yeah, you said over the phone you’d tell her about Luka. Why didn’t you?”

“On… the phone…?” Adrien’s brain was trying to keep up. He’d lost Marinette, he was facing down an increasingly irate man blocking his way to her, and he was somehow involved in some phone call? Casually slipping his gun back into his jeans, Adrien held his hands up in surrender.

“I never answered a phone. I saved her life and brought her here.”

Nathaniel’s scowl clipped with confusion. Using the moment, Adrien easily slipped past him and hurried into the doorway. His heart sagged with relief as he spotted Marinette speaking softly to a short woman with a blonde pixie cut. _Whatever happened to stay behind me at all times?_ He thought darkly as he surveyed the room. It was a living area with small threadbare couches and a tiny TV. Just like the rest of the house, the room was dark. Small lights in each corner of the room provided just enough to see and avoid furniture. Adrien checked each doorway suspiciously before stepping closer to the pair of women. Suddenly, Marinette threw her arms around the pixie woman just as she burst into tears.  

“Fu… Gina… this can’t be happening. Just when we were gaining momentum… They’re dead? Oh, Marinette! How horrible! What are we going to do?”

“What’s going on in here? Rose?” A deeper feminine voice came from the doorway and Adrien’s hand automatically flew to touch his gun as another woman entered the room. She had a willowy figure with long dark hair with purple highlights at the tips. Her eyes grew wide as she saw the blonde’s tears.

“Juleka,” Marinette’s voice was soft, “is Luka _really_ …?” She seemed unable to finish the rest of the sentence.

Juleka came forward and took Rose from her. With a soft nod, she said, “he’s with Wayzz. He’s been asking for you.”

“Who is Luka?” Adrien asked and immediately felt like the intruder he was. Every eye landed on him and Juleka frowned tightly.

“Marinette, who is this?”

The raven-haired girl blinked as if she’d forgotten he was there. “That’s Adrien Agreste. He saved me from the bakery. He can be trusted.”

“Wait,  _saved you_? What happened at the bakery?” Juleka demanded.

Marinette nodded to teary-eyed Rose to explain and hurried out the room. Adrien followed, his long legs catching up to her quickly. The house was bigger than he originally thought and shaped like a long rectangle. She passed three large bedrooms occupied by several rows of cots and sleeping figures. _The freed akuma_ , Adrien realized, before she stopped short at a closed door. With a hesitant breath, Adrien watched as she opened it and peered inside.

“Marinette!” A squeaky voice called out with relief and the door opened wide to have yet another woman crash into Marinette’s arms. Her dark hair in a bob, her blue eyes wide, she could have been Marinette’s sister. “You made it! Luka-”

“Tikki, I need you to do something for me.” She let go of the short girl to stare her straight in the eye. “You have to evacuate the akuma. Use the escape tunnel. We’ve been found out. The man hunting us is in the police. Have someone watch the north path. He could be coming here. I need to speak with Luka, so if you could-”

“Don’t say another word,” Tikki cut in with a brave shine in her sky blue eyes. “We are always prepared in case this happened. I’ll start the evac process and let Caline know and,” her gaze drifted to Marinette’s pajama shorts and Adrien’s thick jacket, “I’ll get you some different clothes. I’m pretty sure I have some of your racing gear in my drawers. If that’s okay?”

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled briefly, but it was twisted off her lips as soon as Tikki left through the doorway. Tikki shot a curious look at Adrien, her blue eyes narrowing at his face before heading off down the dark hall.

Marinette took a deep breath, as one would do before entering a morgue, and step inside the room.  

* * *

  
Wayzz was the first thing she saw. His messy jet-black hair and goofy green shirt stood out in the dimly lit room. Pushing his round glasses up his nose, he never looked her way as he continued to rummage through a box of electrical equipment in the middle of the room. Lining the bare walls on either side of the room were seven cots, each holding an akuma with their eyes closed. Her stomach twisted with apprehension as she flicked from one unfamiliar face to the next. And then suddenly-

“Marinette…”

His voice was like falling into the past. A sunlit room on a boat, a soft smile, a song from her heart, a Jagged Stone guitar pick. His eyes, icy blue in color, but warm like a hearth. A laugh just for her.

Her head immediately turned to the far left corner.

And there he was.

It was Luka - but then it wasn’t. Three years. Three long years of servitude and neglect. He was blade thin, his cheekbones jutting out. His hair was long, almost as long as Juleka’s. But those eyes - those ice eyes. She would know them anywhere.  Her gaze drifted from the familiar and unfamiliar, picking apart each bit of him.

He was lying on the bed, several of Wayzz’s machines whirling beside him. He’d been stripped of his shirt, his concave stomach and ribs making Marinette’s knees go weak.  Deep lines around his mouth, shallow pale skin that showed blue veins, bony arms and collar bones jutting out. Several lines of fluid were connected to him intravenously. The whirling machine gave a small beep and she watched as a line of blood ran down to enter the crook of his arm.

A blood transfusion.

“Luka," his name escaped her lips like a fervent prayer. With a tight gasp that caught in her chest, she hurried to his side. His lips curled with a weak smile. Kneeling beside his bed, she reached to grasp his trembling fingers in her own. Pressing his precious hand against her cheek, she almost shuddered at how cold his skin felt against her face.

“Ma-Ma-Marinette,” he said softly, the joking nickname tightening her throat. “Juleka told me. You are Ladybug. I _knew_ it was you.”

“You knew about Ladybug?” She asked with awe. His eyes were more hollow close up. She also noticed - with a sick twist in her stomach - that there was a puckering scar where his left ear should be.

“Of course, I did. You flew so beautifully on your bike in the races. I knew it could only be brave Marinette.”

A burn hit behind her eyes. “If I had known… God, if I had known you were _there…_ Luka, I would have tried harder. I didn’t know.” A tear slipped down her cheek and hit his hand. “I-I… Please, forgive me. Please…”

His thumb brushed under her eye. “I wasn’t in the races until last year. I am… _was_ the third akuma for Andre Bourgeois. The newest one with the newest shiny collar. Thankfully, the prototype didn’t work as well as they thought. I was obedient, but I could still hear them. I could feel. I could still remember… I remembered you.”

Despite the situation, her cheeks blushed.

“Before the collar - before Andre - I don’t remember much. It was as if I was asleep in a hazy dream. I think they kept us drugged until we are taken to be strapped in the collars. All I know is suddenly I was awake in a large dark room and...” He stopped, his pale skin growing ghostly.

Suddenly, one of the machines started a loud beep and Wayzz was there in an instant, his fingers flicking through an attached screen. Marinette watched in fear as Luka’s face twisted as if in pain.

“What’s the matter?” Adrien’s voice called from behind her.

Wayzz frowned. “His blood pressure. Too high.”

“Calm down, Luka. You’re okay. Everything’s okay,” Marinette called, her other hand rising to touch his forehead. Pushing back the long hair from around his face, her fingers moved to ghost over his missing ear. Just the sight of it sickened her stomach - and deepened her guilt.

She saw something move on the side of her eye and she glanced up to watch Adrien walk closer and kneel on Luka’s other side. Gently, he reached for Luka’s hand and pressed his thumb on the skin of his wrist. He rotated slowly in circles, moving from the wrist to the crease of his palm. The reaction was almost instantaneous. Luka’s body began to relax. His breathing smoothed out and the loud machine stopped beeping.

Catching Adrien’s green eyes in wonder, he gave her a small one-shouldered shrug and nodded towards Luka. Marinette made a mental note to ask him what that was the next time she had a chance. For now, Luka groaned and let out a long sigh. Wayzz, now content with his patient’s health, moved back to the electrical box in the middle of the room again.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m sorry,” Luka whispered softly. He turned his head to look at Adrien. “I haven’t met you yet. Thank you.”

“Adrien Agreste, and it’s my pleasure.” The blond smiled as he continued to massage his thumb into Luka’s hand.

Luka’s face grew into a frown of thought. “Agreste… you’re the mayor’s son?”

The short exhale that escaped Adrien’s lips signaled a story, but Marinette knew they needed to stay on track. There wasn’t enough time.

“I need you to tell me as much as you can, Luka. This is going to be tough, but what you know may save the rest of the akuma still trapped under Hawkmoth’s control.”

His eyebrows crashed as anger flashed across his face. “ _Hawkmoth_ … yes, I know a few things about him. I know Andre knows who he really is. Andre was Hawkmoth’s bookkeeper, guarding and covering up all of his crimes. He is the reason Hawkmoth grew so powerful. Andre was the mayor during the kidnapping. He always was in league with him - probably from the very beginning. I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire akuma concept had been _his_ idea.”

“Andre Bourgeois knows who Hawkmoth is?” Marinette repeated, leaning closer with growing excitement. Her hand on his face trailed to his bony shoulder. “He never said anything around you? Not a name or something?”

“He was very careful. Always vigilant. That’s what made him such a good bookkeeper. He wouldn’t speak of Hawkmoth even with me near. He didn’t know I was listening, but… maybe he did. Maybe he sensed I was there. Powerless. Many akuma serve as bodyguards as well as race in the games. I was little more than a plaything for him, a plaything that he could…” He stopped and Marinette’s eyes landed on his missing ear once more. “I never learned what happened to the other two akuma before me. I can imagine…”

“I am so sorry, Luka… I should have-”

His hand, still pressed against her face, slid to the side of her neck in such a tender gesture of affection, the rest of her confession caught in her throat.

“There is no apology necessary. Especially from you. You are my hero, Marinette.”

A raw strength surged through her at those words. “I promise - I promise I will do everything in my power to save everyone. I will take Hawkmoth out.”

A smile of pride lifted on his lips. “If anyone can do it, it’s you. I dreamed of the day I’d get to see you again. I thought it would never happen. I thought my future was another body bag taken from Le Grand Paris Hotel. But, here you are. Saving the world. Saving me. Just as strong and beautiful as I remember.”  

“Le Grand Paris Hotel?” Adrien suddenly spoke up - breaking the moment. As Marinette and Luka glanced at him, he blushed brightly. “That’s where Andre lives?”

Luka nodded. “He owns the hotel. He’s in the VIP suite on the top floor.”

Marinette caught Adrien’s eye and he read her thoughts. “He could be a lead. If we can get him to talk.”

“I can think of a few ways,” Marinette said coldly.

Luka’s face crossed with concern. “You’re leaving?”

Placing a hand on his fingers at her neck, she nodded. “I have to keep my promise, Luka. You will be with Juleka and Rose. You’ll be safe and Wayzz will take good care of you-”

“Marinette!” Tikki’s voice rang down the hallway. “Marinette! There’s a cop car coming down the north pathway!”

Her heart flew. Her hand dropped from Luka’s and she was on her feet in an instant. She ran to the doorway - Adrien at her heels.

“Marinette!” She heard Luka call, but she couldn’t go back. Not when so much was at stake.

“I promise!” She shouted over her shoulder.

Tikki emerged from a room on the right, clothes in her arms and her blue eyes wild. Without another word, she shoved the clothes into Marinette’s arms and hurried into the recovery room.

“Wayzz! Time to pack up! We gotta go now!”

“But I just found the-”

“No! We are in danger! We are evacuating!”

Marinette turned to Adrien in the hallway. “I have to help them escape. You don’t have to stay with me anymore.”

The way his green eyes flashed made her heart jump unexpectedly in her chest. A crash of something she couldn’t identify rushed through her and she felt it warm her cheeks. He grabbed her shoulders firmly and shook his head, golden hair swinging over his forehead.

“No. I’m not leaving you. If you stay then I’ll stay, too.”

“You’ve done enough, Adrien! I can’t be the cause of anyone else’s death - especially someone who wasn’t part of it to begin with! You should take the car and go!”

“Not without you.” She stood blinking at his declaration. His green eyes shining brightly down at her, she saw the strong resolve from every inch of him. “I’m in this now. I can’t turn my back now that I know what’s been going on these past three years. Look…” a thought crossed his handsome face and he announced, “we could be a distraction!”

Before she could gather her words to ask, Wayzz appeared rolling a cot with an akuma on it to the doorway.

“Get out of the way, Marinette!”

Stepping together into another room to let Wayzz pass, Adrien turned to her with a calculated look.

“The assassin wants you, right? How about we lead him away from the Orphanage?”

“Lead him…? In your car? But what if he doesn’t follow?”

“I'll drive slow enough for him to chase us. We can at least buy them time to evacuate everyone. We also need to get to Andre Bourgeois. You have a promise to keep, right? You can’t keep it holed up with the akuma.”

It irritated her that he had a good point.

Caline, her short reddish locks disheveled, appeared panting at the doorway. Her usual cheerful smile was replaced with a look of cold fear.

“Ah, Marinette! Is there anyone left in here?”

“It’s clear. Wayzz needs help with the collared akuma,” Marinette informed. “Tikki just told me there’s a cop coming. He might be the one who killed Fu and Grandma. You can’t let him get the akuma.”

“Oh, Fu, Gina... I’m not sure if Tikki or Wayzz know yet. But what about you?” Caline stepped forward a little more, her face concerned.

Marinette felt Adrien’s eyes burrowing holes on the side of her face.

And she made a decision. She had to keep her promise.

“We have a lead we need to follow. Andre Bourgeois knows who Hawkmoth really is. We need to go to Le Grand Paris Hotel. We’ll try to lead the assassin away from you. Get him to follow us. Anything to give you enough time to escape. How long do you think you guys need?”

“We’ve got most of the mobile akuma getting ready for the tunnels. Looks like it’s just Wayzz’s group that’s left then. Considering we are handling the cots, I would say as much time as you can give us,” her bright eyes flashed, “but Marinette! That is so dangerous! You shouldn’t-”

“It’s the only way, Caline. I wish I could help you, but I can’t stay.”

Caline hurried forward and kissed both her cheeks with tears welling in her eyes. “My brave, selfless little Ladybug. Be safe.”

“Hurry! Go!”  

As the red-headed lady left the room, Marinette turned to Adrien with a short breath, a burn behind her eyes, and her fear piling.

But this was what they had to do. And they were going to do it.

“Let’s be a good distraction.”


	5. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug and Black Cat get an unexpected plus one.

They raced together, him only a few steps behind her. Adrien’s eyes danced from room to room as they passed. He spied the woman called Juleka tying rope around five people’s waists. He noticed three crying adults standing in another corner being coaxed by Rose. Many of the rooms were empty - clothing and cots scattered and askew. Marinette brushed by two slouching young men as she led the way out of the hall.

Their expressions were completely blank despite the pandemonium around them.

Adrien shuddered.

Finally crossing into the dark living room, he blinked in surprise. Several of the sofas in the middle of the room had been pushed aside for a giant open trap door with ramp leading downward.

“Whoa, what-”

“That leads to the escape tunnel,” Marinette explained with short pants before he could finish asking. “There are waterway channels below that head out south towards a golf course.”

Flying out the open side door together, Adrien raced to the car before her. He opened the passenger side and she scrambled in. As he hurried around the car to the driver’s seat, his heart dropped at the reflected headlights bursting into view from the trees.

“Oh, God, he’s here!” He heard Marinette cry out.

Slipping into the seat, engine growling alive, Adrien waited till the assassin was in full view of his car before he slammed on the gas. The wheels spun on the overgrown path and then shot forward violently. Marinette squealed as Adrien swung around the Orphanage building.

“There! Through that patch of trees! That’s a tight path, but-” Her instructions ended in a scream as Adrien swerved ferociously to the pathway she’d pointed at and hit the accelerator.

“Be careful! It’s a very-”

Another scream and Adrien whipped the wheel hard to avoid a cluster of trees. It was so close to grazing, he could have sworn he heard the bark peeling off.

"Is he following?" Adrien asked, his green eyes focused and his movements controlled despite jerking the wheel left and right.

She shot him an incredulous look. “How are you so calm right now!?”

“Is he following?” He repeated with tense bite in his tone.

“He’s following, but I think he’s losing our trail. We need to buy them more time - _Nathaniel!?_ ”

“What?” Adrien frowned and looked back just as a tall redhead peeked his face from the backseat.

“Hi, Mari,” he said sheepishly, beginning to sit up. “Where are we going?”

“Did you sneak into the car?” Marinette demanded.

“Not exactly. It’s not sneaking if the car is unlocked, right?”

“Hang on, you two,” Adrien announced grimly and swiveled around another sharp corner. Marinette pressed her head against the headrest on the seat and tried not to look. Gripping the handle above the door with white knuckles, she bit back another scream as the car barely scraped by another tree. It was another few minutes before the pathway leveled out and Adrien turned on a clearer dirt road.

“He isn’t following anymore. We lost him.” Marinette’s voice was hollow as she checked behind them. “God, I hope we gave them enough time.”

“Probably bought them about twenty minutes or so. He still has to figure out how to turn around on that tight pathway. Lucky for us his car is big.”

"Yeah, _lucky_..." Catching her terrified expression, Adrien reached over to comfortingly pat her shoulder - only to have his hand grabbed painfully tight by large fingers from the backseat.

“Don’t touch her,” a deep voice growled, letting him go roughly.

She glanced at Adrien, startled, before turning to send a scolding scowl to Nathaniel.

“Nathaniel, you shouldn’t even be here. You should be helping Caline and the others with the akuma. They could have used you.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t want…” the man let out a small sigh and went quiet.

“Didn’t want what?” Marinette encouraged, her voice growing a touch more gentle.

“I didn’t want to leave you with _him_.”

Adrien’s eyebrows shot up just as her blue eyes flicked to his face. A touch of warmth hit his cheeks and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“He’s protecting me, Nathaniel. He’s risking his life to help me. To help all of us.”

“But he has green eyes. And I have green eyes. Tikki always said your hero would have green eyes and it’s me. It’s always been me. It can’t be _this_ guy. He doesn’t even know you. He doesn’t know you like I do.”

Marinette’s mouth opened and closed before she turned back in the passenger seat to stare out the windshield. Even in the darkness, he could see her blushing cheeks.

“Now is not the time to talk about that, Nathaniel. We’ve got to get you somewhere safe. You can’t stay with us. It’s too dangerous.”

“B-But-”

“No.”

Unable to say a word, Adrien drove on as the hard silence bloomed.

* * *

  
Theo’s teeth were grinding behind his perpetual smile and he actually flinched as his car's wheels spun dangerously off the dirt road. He could barely make out the hint of the speeding Renault in front of him. His car was too big to fit through the trees. He’d made a mistake following them through here.

He had noticed they’d slowed down somewhat during some of the turns. Almost as if…  leading him away? Forcing him to chase them? Despite Theo’s love for playing cat and mouse, he knew a decoy when he saw one.

Pressing on the brakes, he let the Renault disappear into the forest.

No matter. He’d find them again. Like a good hunter, he specialized in pouncing on his prey when they least expected him. Though he had to admit, that blond bastard was smart. His car was smaller - able to fit easily through the trees. He drove like a pro. Had the skills of someone trained for combat. Even first catching eyes with the blond, Theo knew there was a reason why he mistook some blue collar miscreant for the middleman.

There was a darker side that was dormant inside this man. A killer knows a killer when he sees one.    

But that building they’d just left - there was something there. Something they were trying to keep him away from. It had to be. Why else would he randomly slow when Theo had trouble keeping up.

Slowly, attempting to turn his car back down the pathway, his smile somewhat unscrewed from his lips as the side of his vehicle hit a tree and made a terrible scraping noise.

“Oh, it’s going to be fun killing you, Blondie,” Theo hissed as he carefully reversed his car inch by inch. “I’m going to rip her apart piece by fucking piece and make you watch.”  

But first, time to scope out this building...

* * *

  
Caline Bustier fervently prayed in her head as she helped wheel a cot containing the last collared akuma down the ramp and into darkness. Tikki had remained behind to double check that every room had been thoroughly emptied. Rose watched the front window from behind a curtain.

Caline’s heart was racing, her palms were sweating. She felt her adrenaline pulsing through her body as she waited for Tikki to reappear. She had known this might happen someday. They had done drills every Saturday just in case the Orphanage got compromised. But to lose so much already? Even after getting seven akuma just the night before?

How had their luck changed so fast?

"It's all clear,” Tikki announced with relief in every limb. “We are the only ones left."

"Oh, no!" Rose squeaked, rushing into the room. "He's coming! The officer's car is pulling up to the front!"

Stomach churning, eyes flicking from the looks of horror from the two young women, Caline’s shoulders straightened and her kind eyes hardened.

“You two go ahead into the tunnel! Rose, I need you to lead the group. You know the tunnels better than anyone and you can navigate them to safety.”

The blonde pixie nodded before hurrying down the ramp. Tikki, however, stopped and glanced at Caline with a touch of suspicion.

“Come on,” Tikki reached out a hand for her - but she stepped back.

“Caline!”

The redhead stumbled her words, but she shook her head bravely. “I-I’m not coming, Tikki. I can seal the trap door behind you and move some of the furniture back. He won’t know to look here.”

Tikki’s mouth fell in horror. “But-But he’ll kill-”

“Someone needs to hide the tunnel! Go! I’m sure he’s already on his way to the door!”

“You’re going to die-!”

“This was always a cause always worth dying for! I’m the one with nothing to lose! My sister is  _dead_ , remember? Withered away like too many others once we got the collar off! So I will do what I can for the rest of you! I have to keep you safe!” Before she could change her mind, she shoved on Tikki’s petite shoulder. The raven-haired girl stumbled down the ramp. “They are yours now, Tikki! Protect them with your life!”

As Tikki opened her mouth, Caline reached up to pull the trap door shut. The simple sound of the wood falling into place only solidified her resolve. Pulling on the tight latches and grabbing the metal lock, she snapped it on and hurriedly covered the now hardly visible trap door with carpet.

She’d just finished pushing the last sofa into place when she heard the front door burst open with a terrifying _bang!_

* * *

  
"So, where are we going?" Nathaniel chirped happily from the back seat. Adrien bit his lip and prayed for patience. His seat was given another hard but noiseless thump as Nathaniel kicked the back of it for the fourth time.

The highway was dark and empty in the late night. Adrien checked his rearview mirror for anything suspicious and watched Marinette from the side of his eye. She was twisting the clothes Tikki had given her with her fingers. Her blue eyes were glazed and staring out the window.

"I'll be taking you somewhere safe," Adrien answered Nathaniel - who scowled through his long hair. "I have friends who can take care of you for the time being. You should have stayed at the Orphanage."

"I'm going with Marinette, _stranger_ ," the redhead announced. "Don't tell me what to do. I don't want to meet any friend of yours. Marinette always had me help her. I don't have to listen to anything you say."

"It isn't safe, Nate," Marinette said quietly, still looking deep in thought. "I want you to be safe."

Nathaniel’s thin mouth opened as if to spout off another retort, but he immediately closed it with a snap. Catching Adrien’s green eye in the rear-view mirror, he shot him a smug look.

"You want me to be safe? You always think about me first, don't you? I guess you like me a lot."

"Of course, Nate," the girl finally smiled and turned around to look at him, "you're like a brother."

Adrien almost snorted. Nathaniel’s pale face dropped and the smirk was wiped from his lips. He kicked the back of Adrien’s seat once more.

"Speaking of, where do you plan to take him?" she asked, turning back to Adrien curiously. "You said you have some friends?"

"One of them knows what's going on to an extent. She'll be alright with taking care of him, I hope. Her husband…" Adrien glanced back at Nathaniel once more and saw he had crossed his arms in an obvious huff. "He'll still be at work. I'm sure they'll let me borrow their car. We need a new one."

"These friends of yours sound awfully generous," Marinette frowned thoughtfully. "Are you sure this is okay?"

Adrien smiled furtively. "Let's just say they owe me."

* * *

  
Clenching her teeth, Caline tried to focus on the moonlight shimmering through the windows. It cast the curtain’s shadows over the cot she was currently strapped to. Arms spread and ankles tied to each leg of the cot, she tried to ignore the pain as she struggled against the manacles keeping her hostage.

"I've asked so many questions, madam, yet you love to play stupid.” His footsteps paced around the side of her cot. She turned her head away from the window to watch him. "I know you can help me. It's just a matter of finding the right way to motivate you. Sometimes it's a gentle nudge. Occasionally it's a thin prick of a knife. Mostly, it's time. Unfortunately for me, I don't have time to spare on you. My contractors are already wondering where the girl's head is." He let out a good-natured laugh, dark hair escaping his bun to frame his thin, smiling face. “Though you are quite lovely, I don’t think your head will make the cut.”

“You sure like to hear yourself talk-” Caline’s throat let out an unwanted gasp as she felt a blade stroke the top of her neck. The piercing bite of it’s sharp edge made her whimper as warm blood pooled out onto the white sheets.  

“My, my, you are a strong one. Color me impressed. One last try: are you sure you don’t know where they are headed to?”

Teeth clenched, tears on her cheeks, she gave him defiant glare.

He tossed the knife on the bed haphazardly near her forehead and turned away with a sigh. Caline’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the blood-stained blade. Her fingers clawed closer to it as he walked away to one of the couches where he’d put his bag. Pulling her hand as hard as she could against the manacle, she felt the skin of her wrist split as her thumb barely touched the knife’s handle.

"You won't tell me on your own, beautiful? I guess it's time for something else - Uh-oh! What are you trying to do?”

A cry escaped her as he rushed back to the bed and plucked the knife away. Dangling it by the handle with a teasing grin, he clicked his tongue.

“Look at you! Trying to pull a fast one, huh? I knew I liked you. I guess I can make time for one finger.”

“Wha-” Caline’s questioned ended in a shriek as he lowered the blade and sliced into her thumb. The razor knife bit into the flesh all the way to the bone. With another hard cut, the finger left her - bouncing off the cot and rolling on the ground. She writhed, she screamed, her stomach tossed with agony and nausea.

And yet he just stepped back and watched.

He waited.

It felt like an hour before her raw screams subsided to gasping sobs. He smiled.

“Do you know where they are headed?”

She stared at the dark ceiling - the familiar tiles swirling with her pain - and shut her trembling lips.

“Worth a shot, I guess.” Shrugging, he moved back to his bag. She couldn’t see him. A small clinking of glass. He came around holding the satchel and dropped it between her bound feet. Digging, he pulled out a small bottle with light blue liquid inside. Swirling the liquid with a happy smile, he tossed a black air-mask on her stomach.

"Do you know what this is?" His unnatural smile caught the moonlight. His teeth gleamed at her devilishly. "Well? Answer me!”

He reached up and grabbed her bloodstained hand, pressing slippery fingers where her missing thumb used to be.

She screamed, but he laughed.

“Of course, you don't. What was I thinking? How impolite of me to ask you something that you obviously don't know! But-” He let go of her hand and she saw a creeping darkness in the corners of her eyes. “There is something you _do_ know. And guess what? This little liquid in the bottle will get it out of you."

Still crying, Caline shook her head slowly. “N-never-”

The assassin laughed. "Your defiance makes this all the more delicious. You just wait and see! You'll love it! I’ve only seen it done once or twice! Oh, I am so excited to finally try it out for myself!"

He swirled the small bottle again before grabbing the face-mask.

"It's a new little truth serum. They told me it has ethanol, scopolamine, sodium thiopental, and a good dose of hypnotic variants that I won't bore you with by describing. I just know it works! You are in for a trip of a lifetime, my pet. It plays with the brain, you see? Shows you your fears, your demons. It lays them bare before your eyes." He chuckled again. "And the best part about it? I just have to unscrew this lid and let you descend into your nightmare. It's rather beautiful, to be honest. Watching it happen."

He set the bottle between her thighs and lifted the face-mask. Strapping it above his bun, his breathing was muffled through the long vent.

He looked like an actual monster…

A devil.

"You'll breathe it."

She struggled against the manacles in vain. “No-no…”

"Then you'll tell me everything I want to know."

Her eyes darted wildly to the ceiling, the window, and the small hint of carpet where the trap door was hidden. She couldn’t - she wouldn’t!

“P-please…”

The assassin reached and plucked the bottle smoothly.

He unscrewed the lid.

 


	6. Suit Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug and Black Cat transform.

"You want me to what now?" Alya stuck one eyebrow up as Nathaniel settled in beside her on the couch with his hands folded politely in his lap and his long legs crossed. He gave Adrien an innocent look and the blond tried not to roll his eyes. Now that they were out of the car, he had turned into a perfect little angel.

Marinette had left to change her clothes in the hall bathroom as soon as Alya pointed the way - leaving Adrien, Alya, and Nathaniel alone. Once again in the spacious living room for the second time that night, Adrien ran a tired hand through his locks before catching the ‘ _explain what is going on!’_ look in Alya’s amber eyes.

“I just need you to take care of him. Only for a little while.”

“That’s nice, Adrien, but who exactly is he?” Alya glanced at Nathaniel, who gave her a kind smile.

“My name is Nathaniel and you have really pretty hair.”

“Thanks?” She gave the redhead a tentative lift of her lips.

Adrien frowned at Nathaniel. “What? I’m a ‘stranger’, but she’s got ‘nice hair’?”

“I don’t like you,” he said honestly - so blunt that Alya snorted a laugh.

“Jeez, what did you do to piss him off?”

“I’ve got green eyes, apparently,” Adrien sighed, feeling even more tired.

“I’m the only one who is allowed to have green eyes in Marinette’s life. I’m her hero.”

“Moving on from that and still wondering what the hell is going on, I’ll repeat: who are these people? The woman you brought with you had blood on her feet, Adrien.”

“I can answer that,” Marinette’s voice came from the hallway and she stepped out into the living room.

Adrien’s shoulders dropped unwillingly as he stared at her, stunned. Obsidian boots, red leather pants hugging her legs and thighs, black crop top that cut just above her waistline and dipped at the curve of her breast, a short leather jacket. It was the exact outfit that was on the picture currently in his pocket. She’d brushed and tied her dark hair into low pigtails at her neck. With determination set on her lips and her cerulean eyes shining, he felt his breath catching in his throat. There was no doubt. 

Ladybug.

She was… it was beyond the simple words of ‘pretty’ or ‘graceful’. It was almost like she was ethereal. A dark angel stepping out from the shadows. As her gaze flicked on his face, Adrien suddenly swirled with nerves and felt his face heat in a blush. Remembering her tender moment with Luka only an hour ago, he pushed down his nerves and tried to ignore how acutely aware he was of her presence as she came to stand beside him.

She already had someone she cared about. He was being irrational.

He was being an idiot.

Adrien felt himself physically relax as she zipped her eyes away.

“Thank you for your hospitality. I’ll be happy to answer any of your questions.”

Alya blinked. Then smiled. A good sign.

Why did Adrien really like that Alya approved of her?

“I like you,” his friend confessed, leaning on the arm of the couch thoughtfully. “You’re obviously badass, but shockingly polite about it.”

Marinette laughed. “I wouldn’t call me that. Consider it an alter ego kind of thing.”

Alya shot Adrien a look of surprise. “Seems you have more in common with her than I thought.”

Marinette’s eyebrows crunched with confusion at him.

The blond waved a hand in the air. "Never mind that. Care to explain to her?"

The curiosity never left her face, but she said, “Nathaniel here was an akuma - part of the group of people kidnapped three years ago. Akumas are forced into slavery using mind-controlling collars strapped to their neck and sold to Masters - prominent men and women within Paris. They can be used as bodyguards or…” her voice faltered as she obviously remembered Luka’s terrible condition, “whatever the Master decides. Primarily, though, akumas are used in races. I’m sure you’ve watched the news?”

Alya’s mouth had fallen open as her amber eyes flicked from Adrien to Marinette and back again. She nodded faintly.

Adrien stepped in. “Marinette is Ladybug.”

There was silence. And then -

“No-no _way…_ ” Alya sat back in the couch, a look of revered awe spreading on her face. “You’re _Ladybug?_  The actual _Ladybug!_ Wow! The races, and Ladybug, and you look the part, by the way. I can’t believe this! I half expected you to be a guy, but then I always figured Ladybug was pretty feminine for a guy, so I guess it makes sense that it’d be a woman, but wow!”

“Is me being Ladybug an okay thing?” Marinette asked with a touch of concern, meeting Adrien’s gaze nervously.

“It’s an _amazing_ thing!I wish I could  _be_ you! I already considered possibly pulling out Rena Rouge to help, but I never knew where to start because it seemed like the races were so sporadic and it was as if you’d appear and then suddenly disappear and you are actually here. _Right here._ In my house! And-”

“Okay, Alya, that’s enough,” Adrien groaned with his cheeks growing red with embarrassment.

“But how in the world did you get into this, Adrien?” He didn’t think it was possible, but her eyes grew even wider behind her glasses. “The  _a_ _ssassin_ _!_ He’s after _her!_ _She_ was the one you needed to protect!”

“She knows about the assassin?” Marinette asked him and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Yeah-”

“I can help!” Alya cut in excitedly. “I’ll help guard Ladybug! I’ll join the two of you!”

“No.” Marinette and Adrien said at the exact same time. Glancing at each other again, she gave him a small smile before saying, “I need your help with Nathaniel-”

“You also have your daughter, Sophie-” Adrien added.

“It’d probably be better if it was just the two of us.”

“She’s right. The smaller the group, the better. And what would Nino think about you suddenly gone?-”

“Who’s Nino?” Marinette asked.

“My husband,” Alya clarified, her excitement visibly deflating with each passing argument. She stood and Nathaniel glanced up to watch her curiously. “Alright, _fine_. You win. If you’re going to be that way, lemme just go get one thing for you, Adrien.”

He narrowed his eyes. He read it in the way she smirked. _The suit._

“You think I need it?”  

The chestnut-haired woman tilted her head sassily. “I think you had more than one reason to come back here. Not just to drop off your friend here. Plus, this is probably suicide if you don’t. Trust me, I kept all your little toys, too.”

“Jesus, Alya! How much did you steal from the government?”

“Enough,” she said with a shrug.

Marinette turned to him once Alya had disappeared. “What is she talking about? What do you need? Toys? From the government?”   

“It’s something I used to wear. Don’t worry about it.”

She frowned, but thankfully didn’t ask for more clarification. She seemed to understand that, though he was being vague, there wasn’t enough time to explain.

Honestly, his instincts were getting antsy just standing in the living room. They needed to move on, make a plan, keep going. Just like how he’d been trained. Just like how it’d always been up until four years ago. Unlike Alya and Nino, Adrien had never really turned off his inner soldier. He hadn’t tried to settle down and make something of his life. It was as if he’d been holding on to it.

As if he knew he’d need it again someday.

Marinette moved to the couch to speak with Nathaniel and Adrien’s eyes unwittingly watched her as she sat down where Alya had once occupied. Her lips were curled in a soft smile. She tossed her hair a little, the pigtails swinging behind her neck, as her raven fringe fell into her brilliant, ocean eyes. Her lithe body, both petite and strong, knocked his heartbeat a little higher and he twisted his gaze away to the carpet.

What the hell was wrong with him? Just because she’d changed her clothes suddenly he was acting like some pre-teen fool? God, he had to get it together. He had just seen her in thin pajama shorts! Sure, he’d noticed how pretty she was then, but _now_ it was like-

No. He had no right to look at her that way. He had to keep his head on straight and make sure they came out of this alive. He didn’t need to be distracted and study the pinched cleavage from her crop top and wonder how soft the smooth, cream skin at her waistline was.

Adrien turned away to stare at a family photo of Nino, Alya, and Sophie to avoid the temptation of looking at her again.

And Luka… she had Luka… she already had someone in her life.

He was being an idiot. He could practically hear the words in Alya’s voice now.

But… Nathaniel had said something that suddenly got him thinking.

A hero.

There was a hero in Marinette’s future? A hero with green eyes? What was that about?

Hearing a kind giggle, he glanced back at her and smiled at the sound of her laugh. It was sweet. Gentle. Catching her eye, he looked away quickly and scratched the back of his neck nervously.

If this was meant to be then the universe certainly had an interesting sense of humor.

A lucky Ladybug and an unlucky Black Cat.  


* * *

  
It was an exact fit.

Zipping the front of the leather suit threw him back into the past. As Alya had said, it was definitely inferior to the one he used to wear. The material was thinner, probably not bulletproof, but just the feel of the suit was like a hug from an old friend, conforming to his legs and shoulders perfectly. His hands stretched the fabric of the gloves, the claws at the end of his fingers such a familiar reassurance. He flexed his biceps in Alya’s vanity mirror and an ancient sly grin slipped on his lips. He could practically feel the last four years peeling away from him like shedded skin. Green eyes vibrant behind the black mask and hair tossed to let the long strands fall haphazardly around his headgear, the pointed ears on the top of his head were more than just cosmetic for his code-name. He plugged the earbuds into his real ears and instantly the world was much sharper. The cat ears amplified even the buzz of the air conditioner above the doorway. Switching the small dial hidden in his hair, he tuned the sounds back to normal. Snagging his belt from the long box where the suit had been packed away, he looped it around his waist and buckled it, letting the excess trail behind him like a cat tail. He opened a small latch on the box and his grin grew wider.

“Damn, Alya...”

Also, true to her word, she had taken the basics of his supplies: a pouch of essential lock picks, smoke pellets, sound distorter, a dark metal flask labeled ' _Cataclysm’,_ and a metal baton. Green eyes landing on the weapon, he plucked it up and knew as soon as he touched it.

This was the _one_.

The old one he used to have with him at all times. Alya had her guns, Nino had his shields, but Adrien… Adrien had _this._ There was even the minuscule chip on the edge from their second mission together. Pressing the black and green cat paw on the side, the baton extended - adjusting to his height perfectly.   

Oh, this felt _good_.  

Securing the pellets, lock picks, and the flask on his belt and bracing the baton on the holder attached to his lower his back, Adrien glanced at the gun that he’d set down on the floor with the rest of his clothes. Without another thought, he snatched the handle and tucked it with the baton. He also nudged his plaid shirt to the front pocket, withdrawing the small picture of Marinette.

Before he could think too hard on why he wanted it, he slipped the photo into his front pocket and hurried out of the master bedroom. A tense voice spoke up from the living room and he stopped short at the entrance to listen. Some kind of argument?

“I said you are staying here and that’s final!” Marinette hissed.

“But-but I thought you cared about me!”

“I do! That’s why I want you here! You’ll be safe with Madame Lahiffe!”

“Who’s going to take care of you though? You always throw yourself into danger! And now it’s going to be even worse for you! He can’t handle it! He won’t be able to stop you from getting killed!”

“Nate…”

Her voice sounded sad. There was a brush of silence. Adrien peeked around the corner and saw that she was hugging the tall man’s waist tightly in the middle of the empty living room. He wasn’t sure where Alya had gone, but the taste of intrusion was back in his mind. Just like he’d had in the Orphanage and with Luka. He couldn’t stop watching her though. Her forehead pressed against the redhead’s chest and her eyes closed tightly, her shoulders visibly trembled underneath her leather jacket. Nathaniel’s arms were slack at his side, but his shoulders dropped as he looked down at her head.

“You have to stay.”

“No, I don’t-”

“You are one of the last people I have left in this world, do you understand? Grandma Gina and Uncle Fu… they are _d-dead_. They were killed this afternoon in the bakery by an assassin. And then the assassin hunted me down and found me at the Orphanage. We may have lost everyone, Nate. Tikki, Caline, Rose, Juleka, Wayzz. Everyone we’ve ever known could be dead right now. This is serious and dangerous. Knowing you are safe is the only thing keeping me going. I still have someone to protect. I can still keep my promise because I have you.”

Adrien felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced back to see Alya, her amber eyes solemn behind her glasses. Together, they listened as Marinette went on.

“Adrien is risking his life to help me keep you safe. You should be nice to him. He has saved my life already. I would be up in heaven with Grandma Gina and Uncle Fu if it wasn’t for him. But instead I was able to escape.”

“I-”

“Promise, my dear friend, that you will be a good boy and be a help to Madam Lahiffe and stay safe. You’re the only one left. I can’t lose you. I _can’t._ ”

“Marinette…”

Finally, Nathaniel’s arms came up and he hugged her, his chin falling on the top of her dark locks.

“I promise.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Letting him go, she opened her eyes and smiled softly up into his face.

Catching Alya’s gaze, he nodded and finally stepped into the room. Marinette’s blue eyes slipped from Nathaniel to his and her mouth fell open.

“ _Black cat…_ ” she breathed and Adrien let a lopsided smile slide on his lips. 

“What, Ladybug? Cat got your tongue?”

She blinked several times as Nathaniel turn to see - and his expression changed to one of hard resignation and misery.   

“He’s a black cat, Marinette. Green eyes. A black cat. Tikki said-”

“Y-yeah, she did.” Marinette took a deep breath as if straightening her thoughts and crossed her arms under her chest uncomfortably. “Now that you’re ready, we need to go. We’ve taken up enough time as it is.”

“You’re headed to Le Grand Paris Hotel? What do you plan on doing when you get there?” Alya asked.

“Beat Hawkmoth’s true identity out of Andre Bourgeois,” Marinette answered, without a touch of humor.

The smile left Adrien's face. "We need to scope out the building. It'll be impromptu."

Nathaniel and Marinette shot each other confused looks, but Alya nodded with understanding, her lips falling into a grim line. "That was your specialty."

Marinette led the way to the front door. He followed behind her.

“Be careful, Chat Noir,”  Alya called out. “You better bring that suit back in one piece.”

“A- _fur_ -mative,” he saluted with two clawed fingers at his forehead.

He grinned to himself, not even needing to look back to know Alya’s inevitable eye roll had followed him out the door.


	7. Puns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug and Black Cat have a chat

The tiny, beat-up, turquoise Citroën C1 was even more cramped than his small Renault, but Adrien had never been more grateful Nino had kept the hunk of junk running after all these years. The axle squealed slightly when he turned the steering wheel, the ancient green-blue paint job was peeling on the top and trunk, and it smelled like mold. Still, the blond knew to never look at a gift horse in the mouth - especially when that gift came from people who could easily beat him up if they ganged up on him. Turning off the main highway and signaling his blinker to the left, he waited at the empty stoplight to cross the Seine.

Marinette had been quiet during the ride. It was obvious she had something on her mind, but Adrien had never been one to pry.

That’s why it surprised him when he heard a quiet, “Adrien?”

Claws clicking on the steering wheel, he glanced at her. “Yes?”

“Who… um…” she twisted her fingers in her lap, “who are you exactly?”

He sighed and felt his stomach sink to his leather-cladded lap. He was a grown man in a leather catsuit with black ears just for the added touch.

To be honest, it was a very reasonable question.

“What do you mean?” he stalled, hating the words as soon as they came out his mouth.

“Why are you… I mean, you are so calm during the moments we are in danger. You have this suit and all these gadgets. Who are you?”

He knew, even without the suit, she’d probably ask him this question at some point. He hadn’t counted on it being so soon. Dwelling on the past, even explaining the story to someone else, would lower his concentration. He needed to keep a level head. The tragedy of the past would only hinder their progress. Allowing a full thirty seconds to tick by as he focused on the abandoned road in front of him, he finally exhaled shortly and said, “Can I answer you later?”

“Why?”

He could feel her cerulean eyes prickling the skin of his tan face.  

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just… hard to explain without a tough story following it. I need to stay focused on what we are doing.”

Marinette was silent before she nodded slowly. “Alright, but you’ll tell me later?”

“Chat’s honor,” he smirked. God, he’d forgotten how fun cat puns were.

Her shoulders scrunched up as if visibly flinching and he glanced at her with concern before heading straight to cross the bridge. Turning right at the next available street, he stopped at another light. He shifted in his seat to look at her and her eyes flicked to her lap swiftly.

“And now my turn for a question: what was up with the hero comment back there?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she answered immediately. He almost laughed at how horrible she was at evading.

“Oh, really? You don’t know? Nathaniel almost clawing my _green_ eyes out wasn’t just a normal thing?”

She sighed slowly before finally looking him in the eye. “Alright, fine. Might as well tell you. It’s not like it’s a big deal and you might not believe me, but…” she hesitated, biting on her lower lip softly.

“Yes?” he coaxed.

“You remember Tikki, right? From the Orphanage?”

He nodded.

“ _Well._.. she’s always had a special gift. Every once in a while, only through her dreams, she has visions of the future. Fu used to say she was  _mìng yùn de dúzhě:_  A Fate Reader. She predicted that racing without a moon in the sky would only put us into danger. Wouldn’t you know it, the very night we were discovered by Hawkmoth was the first one I raced without a moon present. The next day, you were knocking at my door... and here we are.”

Adrien stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.

“Well, Tikki had another prediction. One she’s been having a lot lately for the past two years. It was about me.” Marinette’s cheeks blushed prettily and she looked away through the front windshield. “At first, she said she saw a black cat. He’d come from the shadows. She thought it was a bad omen.”

“A black cat, huh? Makes sense why you looked that way when you saw me in this suit.”

“I looked at you weird?”

“More like I was your cat in shining armor,” he teased with a smug look.

She rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was fighting a smile. “I’m not sure about  _that_ , but - up until recently it’s been clearer for her. A man with green eyes, yet he was still the cat. That’s all she could see. The man was an ally. He’s come to protect me - God, this is embarrassing… She said he’d come when I needed him most.”

“I see where the green eyes issue came from now.”

“Yeah. That’s what that means.” She turned away with her face charmingly red.

His spine straightened against the seat and he grinned to himself.

The hero, _her_ hero, was a black cat.

_Him._

He had suspected, but just knowing it was true - his own feelings and anxiety during the day even further confirmed what she was saying. He was her _hero_. Predicted to be by her side.

God, why did he like that so much?

“Funny thing is, I had a gut _f_ _eline_ all day even before I was handed your photo. It was like I already knew.”

She snorted at his pun. “Let’s just- let’s just please drop this. I’m humiliated enough as it is. I never expected that this would even happen. I mean, two years of hearing the same thing over and over. And I can take care of myself. Don’t put yourself in harm’s way just for my sake. You shouldn’t have to be in danger just because of some stupid prediction. I’m not anything special.”

The Chat Noir inside bolstered his confidence and he leaned closer. “Au contraire, purrincess, you are very special.”

“Purrincess?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. He chuckled with a shrug.

“Every hero needs a princess, right? And think about it for a second. If even _fate_ is trying to protect your life then I think that makes you a little more than special. I think it makes you quite extraordinary.”

Her gaze turned back to him in surprise, her cheeks still holding a solid blush. “You think I’m extraordinary?”

“You know you are,” he said softly, all hints of teasing gone. His eyes held hers. “You risked your life for years to save helpless akuma. How is that not admirable?”

Her lips pressed together tightly and he could see her visibly swallow in her throat. “I’m not admirable or extraordinary. I didn’t do any of this alone. Wayzz built the bike and Fu snuck into the Master’s Circle. Everyone else was-”

“But _you_ are Ladybug. You are ultimately the one who was out there putting yourself in danger. I can’t think of someone who deserves to be saved more than the girl who daily put her life on the line to save others. I wouldn’t want to be a hero to anyone else, Marinette.”

Jesus, what was he saying? He was _flirting_ with her. But her head ducked shyly and a small smile was on her pink mouth.

It was beautiful.

“I just did what anyone else would do.”

“From what I’ve seen in this world, no one would ever do what you’ve done. And really, no need to be so modest. Even Alya called you a badass. That’s saying something coming from her.”

He was leaning closer. If he wanted to, he could turn up his hearing and listen to her heartbeat. Was it beating faster? Harder? He was tempted to find out. She was flustered, but leaning closer to him, too. Their eyes locked again and he rested his elbow on the unwanted armrest between their seats - his forearm ghosting her bicep. There was a static there. A charge between them that felt entirely too tempting. He barely knew this woman who’d stumbled into his life and yet he found himself glancing at her pink lips.

Alright, Adrien was man enough to admit it. She was beautiful. When he’d first gotten the picture, he’d found her pretty. But she was more of a mystery he needed to solve - a purpose and reason for saving a damsel in distress. He’d knocked on her door with the image of the photo in his mind.

He’d been greeted with something entirely different. She had been rumpled and sloppy; tangled hair, tired blue eyes, pajama shorts, and a wrinkled tank top. Though she was cute, his feelings had been little more than relief if anything. He’d found her alive. That was all he needed.

However - that opinion had quickly changed as he heard her story, learned of her struggle and her true fight. That this girl was _Ladybug._ She was so much more than a simple picture or a girl shivering in his coat. She was growing in his mind. An admiration brewing against his will.

She was strong, and brave, and _good._

Seeing the Orphanage had only made her even more of an enigma to his feelings. They all loved her - the entire group. She was hugged, loved, and wanted.

Treasured.

And now, seeing her in the Ladybug racing gear and the sheer determination radiating from her in the face of all the tragedy she’d endured - he knew he was being irrational. He was starting to want something that wasn’t his. Sure, he might have been predicted by fate to protect her, but he hadn’t heard anything about her _falling_ for him or anything. So, he shouldn’t fall for her.

And Luka. She’d promised him. She’d held his thin hand against her cheek. Her expression had been a mixture of pure devotion and want.

She loved Luka.

Adrien was an idiot.

Feeling as if a cold bucket of water had been spilled over his head at that thought, he suddenly leaned away and pressed on the gas. The light had been green for quite a while in the empty street. Seeing her blink in surprise at his retreat, her blue eyes immediately went back to studying the passing streets, the pink still touching her cheeks.  

He gripped the wheel a little harder than normal.

This was physical attraction.

Nothing more.

And physical attraction didn’t mean anything. Those feelings could be easily controlled.

He turned a few more blocks.

Silence between them grew as the minutes stretched.

“I understand you don’t want to talk about your past,” she suddenly spoke up and surprised him, “but can you at least tell me how you went from construction worker to super cat spy?”

The question was easy and held the flavor of teasing. It relaxed him from his troubled thoughts. Teasing was safe. It was _not_ flirting. It was joking around.

Adrien could do jokes.

“Or is it super cat spy turned construction worker?” He shot back with a smirk, the muscles in his shoulders unwinding. He hadn’t been aware he was tensed. “Curious, aren’t you, purrincess. You know what that did to the cat, right?”

“Do the puns come with the suit?” she smiled.

“Actually, yes. It’s a feature. Cat me some slack, will ya? Been a while since I’ve been able to pun properly. Construction puns don’t go over very well with coworkers. ‘Did you take my hammer and cheese sandwich?’”

Her eyebrows disappeared into her fringe as she stared at him. “That was terrible.”

“See? Simply im-paws-sible.”

“Are your puns going to help us sneak into a heavily guarded hotel?"

“I was thinking my lockpicks could do the trick.”

“Lockpicks? I thought you need a license to carry lockpicks.”

“Who says I don’t have one?”

“Wild guess.” She was laughing, her eyes twinkling merrily - not that he noticed. “A punny man in a catsuit showing up to help people unlock their cars and houses. That’s a funny picture.”

“I’ll admit, the suit might be weird to you, but I happen to find the leather very comfortable.”

“You even have the ears and the glowing green eyes with that mask. All you need is a bell.”

“Maybe you can help me pick one out after this.”

This was safe. This was teasing. Nothing more.

However, all humor left her face as the hotel appeared on Adrien’s left. Her eyes tossed with a spark of igniting anger. The majestically columned building supported numerous patriotic flags waving on the tall balcony. Lights were on and bright against the white marble. Long stairs led to the beautifully intricate rotating doors. He drove past the hotel to an alleyway a block away on the left. Pulling inside, he stopped the car.

“Why did you park here?”

“Studying a map,” he answered, pressing on the side of his mask. A thin blueprint popped up and he scrolled through with a clawed finger dragging around the outside of his left sclera. Marinette watched in fascination. “Seven tier construction. Six ground exits. Four rooftop. If it comes down to it, we might be able to escape on the roof. That’s good. There’s apartments behind the hotel. Not a bad jump. Less than two meters.” He immediately begin mapping another exit in his head - his quick mind working through the various exits and strategies.

“Seven tier structure? Six exits? What are you-”

“For a building of this size, it is standard procedure to make sure every construction over the length of twenty meters to have at least six ground exits.” He shut off the blueprint with a quick click of his claw and grinned at her. “That’s not anything special, purrincess. I still work in construction, remember?”

Her scoff was charming, but he had to make a choice. Finally deciding the back alleyway was the best option to enter the hotel, he told her the plans and they both opened the squeaking turquoise doors. Checking to make sure the gun, his baton, and lockpicks were secure, he locked the car doors and headed further down the dark alleyway with Marinette following closely. Reaching for the pistol, he unclicked the safety and held it steady at his side. His sound-proof boots did their job. Not a single noise came from him.

Nor her?

Curiously, he turned back to check on her and noticed her slender hands relaxed and ready at her side. Her body naturally seemed to maneuver to the shadows. Adrien was impressed. She was following almost as silently as he was. He noticed her blue gaze check above their heads, studying the various windows and fire escapes for threats.  

Smart. A potential ambush from above. He really liked that. Back in the day, she would have been a perfect partner for his squad. Thinking outside the box.

He quickly let that thought go.

“Is it quiet out here to you?” She whispered as they cut across an open alley and entered the backside of the hotel. “It’s a Saturday in the city. The bars and clubs should still be open. It’s not even two in the morning yet.”

“I noticed that as well.” - He hadn’t, but she didn’t need to know that.

Marinette suddenly let out a small sigh that sounded more like a disgruntled huff.

“What?” he asked.

“I wish I had a mask, too.”

He grinned at her. “We’ll get you one after this. A ladybug printed one.”

She snorted a quiet laugh - which was strangely dainty and Adrien did _not_ think it sounded cute.

The back alley narrowed further. Adrien was glad only his vision and hearing were amplified in the suit. The smell of molding Chinese food and wet dog was enough to make him breathe through his mouth. A large blue and yellow dumpster stood proudly rotting further on against the bricked wall of apartments - and several feet in front of it -

“Hello, emergency exit,” Marinette whispered as Adrien hurried towards an unmarked metal door. Bending to check the lock, he smirked.

Two deadbolts. Easy.

Reaching into the pouch flap at his belt, he took out the thin screwdriver and small metal pin. Working the keyhole, he felt her lean over his shoulder to watch. A line of pride ran through him as – with two quick flicks of his wrist – both dead bolts clicked unlocked within seconds of each other.

Even after all these years, he still had it.

"Wow, you weren't kidding," she said, impressed. "You're not a spy though - more of a cat burglar."

Adrien smiled and put away the tools before turning to her. “Just make sure to stay behind me. I’ll purr-tect you.”

“You may be a hero, but I can take care of myself. I told you I don’t want you getting hurt because of this.”

“And I don’t want you to-”

Whatever he was going to say was cut short as the newly unlocked door suddenly swung open-

And was followed by the barrel of a gun.


	8. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug and Black Cat become a team.

His sharp whistling was carried off by the evening breeze as he slid easily into the damaged cop car and plopped his satchel in the dark passenger seat beside him. Flicking on the tracer, he re-scanned Blondie’s license plate number through the system. It loaded quickly and zeroed in on an address that was about forty minutes to the east from the Fausses Reposes Forêt. Not near enough to Le Grand Paris Hotel. Obviously, they’d switched vehicles and ditched the Renault.

Theo’s good mood slipped a bit. He needed to inform his superiors about his findings. Permission to proceed: the one thing he hated was stopping his hunt once he began. If the agency ever cancelled his mission - but that had never happened to him before. He shouldn’t have to worry about such a silly thing.

Pulling out his mini-computer, he sighed as he dialed the agency and typed a brief message explaining the target’s current location. Pausing for only a half-second, he added what he’d learned about the missing akuma as well as the hidden passageway through an abandoned building in Fausses Reposes Forêt.

When the woman had told him of the trap door in the floor, Theo had scoffed. They weren’t his mission. But it was good to let someone know.

A small ding from his computer told him the agency appreciated the update and he was to continue pursuit of _Marinette Dupain-Cheng: AKA Ladybug._ His soft amber eyes crossed over the word ‘pursuit’ and his smile grew wide once more.

Scrolling further down the small message, it flashed a coded box. Theo casually flipped in his decoder tag and a small sentence appeared underneath the original message:

_Alerted Target Master 60, Andre Bourgeois. Alternative Objective: Protect Him_

Locking his computer, he turned on the vehicle and began backing out of the dirt road. His smile dropped into something reminiscent to a childish pout. Though it was now against orders, Theo found that if this Master got in the way of his hunt of Ladybug or Blondie, he would be more than happy to pull the trigger himself.  


* * *

  
Adrien reacted instantly.

He ducked under the gun and effortlessly slipped inside the assailant’s attack range. With a quick hand, he grabbed the wrist that held the gun and twisted it back. The weapon let off a wild shot that hit the back dumpster. He drove the handle of Ayla’s pistol into the man’s nose before the attacker could make another move. He heard the cartilage give a satisfying crack. Blood began splurging out of the man’s nostrils. Despite the disorienting pain he must have felt, the man gave a wild punch. Adrien’s gun whipped out of his hand as the man’s bloody fingers connected on the neck of his pistol. It clattered uselessly towards a pile of trash in the corner and Adrien cursed under his breath.

Balling up a fist, the black cat smashed it into the man’s forearm with such force, the power of it snapped the man’s wrist and broke the bone. The weapon slipped out of his unworkable hand and clanged to the concrete floor.

“Grab his gun!” He shouted at Marinette. She bent down to get it and the man kicked out at her. She reflexively dodged and his shoe hit the fallen repeater, sending it rattling several feet down the alleyway. Adrien blinked in surprise as the bleeding man swung his free arm once again to punch him. He ducked under it easily and immediately countered with a hit to his diaphragm. The air escaped painfully from the attacker’s lungs.

And though he was winded and his bloody nose making a mess on his pale face, he clumsily stepped forward for another swing. A bell rang in Adrien’s head. Did this man feel no pain? How could he still try to attack? He should be on the floor in agony. Adrien’s sharpened green eyes studied the stranger, quickly analyzing. He was shorter and very thin. His punches and kicks, clumsy and weak. He wasn’t even aiming it properly. He was swinging blindly. His brown eyes were in a daze.

Almost as if-

“Wait, Adrien! He has a collar! Look!”

He raised a clawed hand to counter the attacker’s awkward fist and his eyes traveled to the man’s neck. He saw the thick leather collar that looked similar to the one Marinette had belted around her neck when he’d first saved her. Adrien immediately backed away from the akuma’s reach and he felt Marinette’s hand grasp onto his arm. The akuma took a step closer, his broken arm swaying at his side.

“Please, don’t hurt him! He can’t help what he’s doing!”

Adrien and Marinette backed away together further down the alleyway as the akuma continued to shuffle towards them. With their backs against the wall, Adrien knew they’d be at a severe disadvantage whether the man was a weak fighter or not. The akuma was weaponless, but he’d keep coming at them until he was incapacitated.

This was tricky. Adrien didn’t want to hurt the innocent man more than he already had. He racked his brain and saw no other solution.  

“Marinette, I have to hurt him a bit. Just to subdue him. I can’t let him back us into a corner.

He gently plucked her hand off his arm and lightly pushed on her shoulder, so she stumbled closer to the dumpster. He didn’t see the small frown that popped on her face.

“Stay out of the way. I’m going to knock him unconscious.”

“No, wait!-”

Without waiting for her approval, Adrien stepped once more into the akuma’s range and blocked his crooked punch with a strong forearm. The man rose up to kick and Adrien stopped the leg with another quick punch in the stomach. The akuma doubled over trying to recover his lost breath, and the black cat slammed the man’s head into his knee. Marinette gasped and ran forward. As the akuma fell limp, she caught him with shaking hands to guide him gently to the dirty concrete. Some of the blood from the victim’s nose had splattered on her chest and stomach - smearing her pure skin with crimson. Marinette set the gun she’d gotten from the akuma on the ground as her fingers moved frantically to his collar. Adrien watched uselessly as she tugged on a strap of the bound leather and a tight wiring system was slowly exposed underneath.

“No.” She sat back on her heels staring helplessly at the combination of reds and blues that twisted inside. “I can’t disarm it.”

“Disarm it?”

“Collars have bombs on them. If an akuma’s heart ever stops then it will immediately explode.” She pulled the akuma’s bloodstained shirt low on his neck to show four black wires trailing down his chest.

Adrien shivered with disgust and pity.

“These are on his heart. A Master can even make an akuma self-destruct if they wanted. I don’t know how to disarm these. They’re new. Wayzz never showed me how-” her head lowered, her raven hair covering her face, “I just want to save one more. God, just _one_ more.”  

“Marinette, you can’t save the world-”

Adrien’s attempt at consolation was strangled in his throat as her hand brushed brown hair away from the side of the akuma’s face and she sucked in a hard breath. There were bloody stitches where his left ear should have been. A matted clot of thick blood was tangled in his hair.

It was fresh.  

“Oh, my God… this is Luka’s replacement. Bourgeois… that _sick bastard_.” Marinette stood suddenly, grabbed the gun, and walked several steps away. Her back to Adrien and the akuma, she was starting to shake. Her arms wrapping around her chest, she faced the wall of the hotel - looking lost.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien called to her, unsure of what else to say.

Her head dropped and she stared at the concrete. Her arms tightened, her breathing came hard and fast. His hand raised to hover in the air with indecision. Was she crying? He couldn’t quite tell. He could always sharpen his hearing, but he had a feeling that would be invasive. But what could he do? Should he comfort her? Hug her? Did she want to be hugged? He’d hug her if she let him-

“I’m stopping this once and for all.” Her voice was like iron. She whirled around and the razor look behind her eyes took him by surprise.

No tears, no sadness like he expected.

Only pure anger.

She stomped towards the metal door. His heart soared in his throat. He jumped forward to intercept her and grabbed her arm. As his hand closed around her bicep, her fiery rage spiked at him. He actually flinched at the look.

“Adrien. Let me go. Right now.”

“Marinette, you need to calm down. It’s dangerous to go in there without a level head.”

“And let Bourgeois detonate his collar while I sit here? I think I’d rather take my chances!”

“We need to make a plan. Just stampeding inside is a bad idea.”

Her eyes drifted from his face to glance back at the akuma lying prone on the ground. “He’s like Luka…”

At the mention of Luka, a weird heat stirred inside him. He couldn’t quite tell what it was, but it made him turn her to face him fully. His hands on her shoulders, her usual soft cerulean eyes pricked up at his face like thorns.

“You are emotionally compromised.”

“There are innocent people counting on me, Adrien.”

“I can take care of it for you. You should wait here.” He knew immediately that was the wrong thing to say as soon as it left his lips. The fire behind her eyes tossed into an inferno of rage.

“Take care of what? Who even are you? Oh, wait. That’s a story for later, right?”

“Marinette-”

“I just have to put all my trust into you - a stranger. Let you take the reins and handle the situation even though I have no idea who you are. Fuck. That.” Shoving his hands off her shoulders, she snarled, “I have done this for three years, Adrien! Three years of sacrifice and terror and risk, only to what? Let you take over everything? Just because of some bullshit dream Tikki had? Just because you suddenly have a catsuit? That gives you the right to tell me what to do?”

“Marinette-”

“I am going to take this gun and pull the trigger right between Bourgeois’ eyes, you understand me?! I’m going to blow him away for what he’s done!”

It was finally happening. Her terrible loss, her fear, her pain. It was balling into a storm. He had seen it with others before in the past. He could see it now. The breaking point had been reached. Honestly, he was surprised at how long it took her to finally get here. She was so strong. Stronger than he could ever be. He had thought she’d break in his Renault after he’d spirited her away from the assassin - her grandmother and Fu both victims. But she’d kept going. Meeting Luka, warning the Orphanage, leaving Nathaniel behind - she did it with a smile knowing she had to keep going.

Her jokes on the way up here, her soft smiles at his flirting… Adrien had kept forgetting how much she’d lost tonight.

Marinette was something else.

Yet, every strong shell eventually cracks under pressure. And she was finally breaking.

“I just want you to be safe,” Adrien attempted, his voice falling soft to pacify her.

“I haven’t been safe for a long time. There’s no need to obsess over it now.” The fire cooled in her eyes, but was replaced by frost. “This is my duty to the akuma, to my promise. I am seeing this to the end one way or another. Even if I have to crawl back from the dead, I will take out every single one of those motherfuckers! If you don’t like it, you can just leave! No one asked you to come along!”

He grabbed her shoulders again, that weird heat igniting in his stomach. He tried to stare her down, but she instantly rose - matching his eyes with blue ice. A strange flush of admiration swirled with his growing anger and it made him frustrated.

God, he really _liked_ her, didn’t he?  

“You’d have to be mad to think I’d leave you!” He snapped.

“If you’re coming, you can’t keep controlling me and forcing me to do what you want! I told you before I will _not_ be a damsel in distress!”

“Think about it, Marinette, you are being targeted! They won’t see me coming!”

“You are being targeted as well! You said it yourself that cop assassin is probably after you, too!”

“I’ve had training for this sort of thing!”

She raised her chin defiantly. “So have I!”

Adrien snorted with annoyance. Letting her shoulders go, he ran both hands through his messy hair. “I can’t have you distracting me during a fight! If you get in the way-”

“My God, what is your problem? Why do you keep thinking you are running this show? You are just some guy who was handed a photograph in a bar!”

“If I hadn’t been handed that photograph, you’d have been dead hours ago!” He growled, his heart an unnatural tempo as he closed in the space between them. The air felt hot and electric. Her breath was brushing hard against his chin. He resisted the urge to grab her again and shake some gratitude into her. “I didn’t have to come and save you from the assassin! I didn’t have to follow you to the Orphanage! I should have just left it-”

“Left it…” Her blue eyes lost their fight so fast, he felt like he was tumbling off-balance. “Left it.”

She took a step back and the space was instantly cold and quiet. Adrien was left in a frustrated daze, his anger fizzling into a tight ball of shame. The implications of what he’d just said hit him like a freight train.   

“Marinette, that’s not what I meant-”

She shook her head, her pigtails swinging and face falling with misplaced understanding. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that since you showed up.”

“No, I didn’t mean it that way! I-”

“You made a choice, right? And now you’re wondering whether you made the right one or not.”

“There was never any question about coming to save you! There was no choice!”

“Yes, there was. You just said it, Adrien.”

Her fight was gone and somehow that was even worse. He gritted his teeth. Without another thought, he unzipped his front pocket and pulled out her picture. Holding it up, her eyes flooded with surprise. Despite his anger, a hard blush spread on his cheeks, reddening his ears. She glanced from him to the picture and back again.

“I kept it,” he said lamely, suddenly unable to look her in the eye. He glowered at the wall to her left instead. “I couldn’t leave it behind.”

“Why?” Her voice was soft now.

“I honestly don't know why. I guess I’ve… I’ve had loss, too. I know how it feels to be powerless and alone.” The image of an abandoned cabin flickered into his mind and he brushed past the coursing memories and pain that followed. “You need someone on your side. I can be that someone for you. No,” he shook his head, “I _will_ be that person. I’m sorry for what I said before. It was untrue. Just like...” his blush grew brighter, “... just like your picture, I can’t let you go, Marinette.”

He finally glanced back to see her mouth had fallen open and a lovely rosy blush had dusted on her cheeks. She took a step towards him and the space felt charged again. This electricity was something entirely different from before. His muscles tensed with anticipation, but he wasn’t sure why. There was a spark in her eye - one of resolve. Lifting a hand, she gently plucked the picture from his claws. For a half second, he was worried she’d rip it up, throw it away - but she carefully tucked the picture back into his pocket and zipped it closed.

“Then don’t let me go,” she breathed so quietly, he almost didn’t catch it. “Let’s take care of this together. Not you leading me. Not me charging in without you. If you want in this, you and I are partners, alright? A team.”

His breath caught in his chest. He had to clench his clawed fingers at his side to keep from stroking her face. He felt a toss of envy for Luka and the hand that had touched her cheek, cradled the side of her neck...

“A team,” he agreed, crossing his arms over his chest before he did something stupid.

“Then let’s go, Chat Noir.” She turned away and headed towards the door.

Warm and yet cold at the same time, Adrien made sure his knees weren’t giving out before he cleared his throat.

“After you, my lady.”


	9. Bourgeois

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug discovers an identity.

Marinette opened the door and peeked inside, the akuma’s gun ready in her hands. It was a door to one of the kitchens, thankfully dark and completely quiet. Black and white checkered flooring, pristine metal countertops, and hanging pots and pans. Completely silent. The late hour was giving them an advantage. She wondered if the akuma had just been sent on a simple patrol. They were lucky. Despite their loud fight outside, no one seemed to have heard them. Or maybe it hadn’t been loud at all and it just felt like they’d been shouting.

She really wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

Glancing back and catching Adrien’s brilliant green eyes, she watched him reach to his left ear and switch a small dial.

“Sound amplifier,” he explained with little more than a breath. He listened closely for a minute or two before nodding an all clear. Together, they entered the kitchen and stealthy made their way past the rows of counters and ovens. Stopping on either side of double doors, they peeked through the round windows to the dark front lobby. She didn’t see anything, but she heard Adrien hiss.

“I can hear two people coming down the main elevator. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

Marinette thought quick. “There’s a chance they’re tracking the akuma’s collar. That'll lead them straight to us. We need to move. Is there a utility staircase we can take?”

“Let me see.” His finger clicked on his mask again and she kept watch through the doors as he scanned the blueprint.

“Head right. Past the lobby. There's a hallway. It's down there.”

Without another word, she slipped out the swinging kitchen door and Adrien followed just as fast. Keeping low and quiet, they sprinted for a long hallway just as the elevator doors _dinged_. Ducking around a corner, her breathing was uneven. There wasn’t a sound coming from him. He was practically part of the darkness in his catsuit. Only his green eyes gave him away in the deep shadows. They waited, Adrien listening intently as the two men crossed the lobby and entered through the kitchen doors.

She was right. They were tracking the akuma.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “ _Now_.”

They continued to hurry down the hallway. She followed him this time, the blueprint map on his sclera pointing him the way.

“Here it is,” he announced, stopping at a metal door near the back of the hotel. He came forward to check the handle and found the door locked.

“Shit,” he breathed, his clawed fingers going for his lock picks. It was only another thirty seconds and the door clicked open. Gun at her chest, she checked around the doorway.

“Really dark in here, but clear as far as I can tell.”

He brushed her aside. “I can see in the dark,” he whispered at her pointed look. “I’ll lead you.”

"Of course, you can," she rolled her eyes, but her heart skipped several beats as his clawed fingers reached to gently touch her wrist - asking for permission. With a blush she hoped he couldn’t see, she slipped her hand into his and he quickly pulled her up the stairs. He was silent, rushing up the staircase, and she tried her best to mimic his movements. She could feel the tension of his muscles, careful and precise.

His fingers tight, but comforting around her palm, Marinette had to admit to herself she was extremely lucky to have him. She knew she had probably seemed entirely ungrateful for everything he’d already done for her. He had risked more than just his own life to save her. His friends were in potential danger as well.

But he did it anyway. Selfless and perfect.

Just like a hero.

The thing was, Adrien was almost too good to be true.

She didn’t deserve him.

He’d shown up on her doorstep, unbelievably handsome and worried for her. She still remembered the look of relief on his face when she opened the door. It had taken her breath away. She’d never been looked at like that by a man before. Wanted and special and precious. But she’d been an idiot. He’d only looked at her that way because of the assassin. Fu and Grandma were gone and he’d tumbled into her world in their place, whisking her away from danger, even going so far as to try keeping her from the Orphanage.

The Orphanage.

He’d been a shadow there, following her carefully - his green eyes studying every inch. She had felt his gaze like a physical touch.

The worst had been with Luka…

Luka, the one she had loved for so long. Luka, the one she always pined after as a girl. Luka, lying broken on the cot, his ear missing, his body thin, but his eyes still the familiar warm blue.

Marinette forced herself to brush Luka away as she stopped suddenly on the fifth floor, causing Adrien to glance back at her wonderingly.

“The penthouse is on the sixth floor,” he whispered and flinched as his voice echoed with the quiet stillness in the metal stairwell.

“I know, but Bourgeois office is on the fifth.”

“How do you know?”

She shot him a smirk and watched his pupils grow a touch wider behind his mask. “You think I only raced the akuma? We studied the Masters as well. Check your sclera. It’s on this floor.”

“I’ll take your word for it. You think he’s still awake? Even at this hour?”

“If his newest akuma is missing, I’m sure he is. Considering this is his fourth one, he probably paid a fortune for it. Besides, there might be paperwork about Hawkmoth. It’s worth looking into.”

Her eyes met his and he studied her for a moment before letting go a long breath.

“Alright, we’ll try it.”

She let him go first for vision’s sake and stood aside while his practically invisible hand checked the doorknob twice and then gently eased it open. A small patch of poor light wafted inside, which she was immediately grateful for. Being blind except for bright green eyes was a bit unnerving.

Her gaze latched onto Adrien as he opened the door a touch further. His mouth set in a firm line, she could see the taut of lean muscles on his shoulders and back through the black leather -  flexed and ready. His breathing was slow, rolling in and out evenly. He looked like a panther ready to pounce; calm and smooth. With the pistol steady in his hand, she watched him fearlessly lean his blond head out of the doorway.

Her own heart was racing so hard, she was sure he could hear it with his amplified ears. He was so brave. Braver than she’d given him credit for. The shame of what happened downstairs told her she needed to apologize. If they survived this hotel and made it out with their lives, she’d apologize for everything that happened in the alleyway. There was no way she could have done this without him. If she had gone alone, she would have easily been killed.  

The hallway was clear and she continued to follow him. The base runner red carpet and rich colored accents on the walls made her wrinkle her nose in disgust. Lavished and perfect, she wished she had free reign to destroy every decorative pot and tear down every red velvet curtain she saw.

“Which way?” Adrien asked, as they crept to a fork in the hallway. “His office isn’t on my map.”

“To the left, I think,” she whispered, and he shot her a quirked eyebrow over his shoulder.

“What? I said we _studied_ them, not followed them in their daily lives. I know it’s around here somewhere.”

He quietly went left, ducking in and out of the shadows beautifully. With her gun warm in her hands, she kept it at the ready to her chest as she crept behind him. Scanning each label on every doorway, she felt a wash of relief as she recalled Bourgeois office was the last one on the right. Her stomach turned with nerves, but her mind focused. A satisfying image of beating Hawkmoth’s identity out of him made her almost smile.

They had reached only halfway down the hall when Adrien suddenly froze on spot. Within the span of a few seconds, he turned and grabbed her waist with his arms. Marinette only managed a short gasp of surprise before her hands naturally flew around his shoulders and her gun slipped out of her fingers to clunk noisily in the middle of the carpet. He gently lifted her off her feet and hauled her inside a room to his left. She tried to stifle her panic as he clicked the door shut and set her back on her feet. Holding her close to his chest, she kept her arms wrapped tightly around him and waited. The smell of bleached cleaning supplies told her they were in a small maintenance closet.

“Adrien, wha-”

“Hush!”

Two male voices started coming from down the hall and she clutched at him even tighter, feeling lightheaded and grateful. He was warm through the leather and solid muscle. Her heart, which had been beating fast before, kicked up another gear as she suddenly realized how close they were. This was practically an embrace. Looking up, heat roared inside her as her forehead almost hit his chin. Unknowingly, his face had turned down - his green eyes staring her with the pupil blown wide. She could see through his glowing mask that his lips were parted. Marinette felt tell-tale light scratches of his claws against her bare waist where her crop top ended.

It made her shiver.

“...no need to bring him here.”

“It’s for your own good, Monsieur Bourgeois, especially now that his target is coming after you.”

“What target? A woman? What can a woman do?”

As one, both their heads snapped to the doorway and she felt Adrien’s shoulders tense.

“Monsieur, Theo is reliable.”

“If he is so reliable then why has he failed to - hang on. What is this gun doing here in the middle of the floor?”

There was a moment of silence. Marinette felt like her entire stomach was in her throat.

“This is the gun I gave to my new akuma. Where was he last reported?”

“Downstairs, I thought. He was patrolling the first floor. I sent two men to check on him a few minutes ago. But really, Monsieur, you should think about your safety. You’d be better off in the penthouse just in case the Ladybug shows up. Once we find your akuma, he’ll protect you.”

“This _Ladybug_ will be dead before she enters the front doors. Such a waste, too. From the picture, she is quite beautiful. I’d love to have her in a collar.”

“Maybe we can negotiate with Hawkmoth if we can catch her before the assassin.”

“Possibly. He’s been generous before. She would be beneficial in the races. Just think of it: the Ladybug as _my_ akuma.”

Marinette involuntarily twitched against Adrien and his left hand rose to the back of her head, pressing her cheek against his leather chest. She heard his heart hammering on her ear.  

“Can we be sure this is actually her, Monsieur?”

“We’ve had false leads before when it came to flushing out Ladybug, but I trust Hawkmoth’s word. The Masters are thinning and her ‘in’ has already been dealt with. She has nowhere to go.”  

Marinette felt cold as his arms gently slipped away and he moved towards the door. Reaching blindly, her fingers brushed his arm and he jumped turning towards her curiously. She guided her hand down his arm till she found his palm, felt for the door handle, and put his fingers to it.

‘Catch them by surprise,’ she mouthed to him and he nodded with understanding.

He squeezed her hand and let her go. She felt his arm knock her gently behind him and she sighed with forced resignation.

Might as well let him play hero. He’d kind of earned it by this point.

"…and the system won't stop us. Once these papers are completed, I will finally shut out the Opérations Spéciales from legal investigation into the races and Hawkmoth can rest easy that the entire situation will now be under his thumb."

Marinette started slightly and frowned as an epiphany rolled over her thoughts. Hawkmoth would obviously be pulling the strings to keep France’s top national security out of Paris. That much was clear. But - there was someone else who had publicly denounced the credibility of the secret service. He’d been passively arguing for years how inept the government was at handling terrorists within France. He complained of ‘big brother’ watching over the people’s shoulders. How the Paris Police Department would eventually get to the bottom of this. She had always thought he was misinformed, a puppet being unknowingly controlled by Hawkmoth. He wasn’t a registered Master and therefore had never been on their radar.

An image of the smiling, stoic, gentle-voiced man popped in her head and she tossed her eyes at Adrien’s back. His blond head turned away, his body taut and ready for attack…

A shiver ran down her spine and her heart lurched with a sudden ache.

But it couldn’t be? Could it?

Hiding in plain sight.

Gabriel Agreste, the Mayor of Paris?

Adrien’s father.

Marinette blinked as Adrien shifted. The voices were growing fainter. They were leaving down the hallway.

The other man laughed. “I never understood why Hawkmoth made you play the games in the first place. You already deserve to be his right hand.”

“That is why sending an assassin from that dreadful company is such a waste. I think I can handle one pretty little girl.”

Adrien opened the door so forcefully it bounced off the back wall. Marinette gave a surprised squeak as he rushed out and immediately aimed his pistol down the hallway. Four shots followed and she heard the sound of two bodies crashing to the floor, both voices screaming in agony. Adrien tore down the hallway and she quickly followed. His heavy boot stomped painfully on a suited man’s hand. She saw the repeater she’d dropped earlier fly out of the man’s fingers and hit the wall near her. With a swift kick, Adrien’s steel toe connected with the man’s face and he fell back flat on his back, unconscious.

Marinette slowly walked up, her gaze focusing on the balding, shivering man on the ground. Tears ran down his beady dark eyes as he gasped for breath. A sheen of sweat dripped from his forehead to chin. Two large dark stains were spreading on the upper part of his thighs. Both his hands were red with blood.

Adrien had gotten him in the legs.

“W-wh-who-”

Adrien raised a fist to punch him, but Marinette called out, “Wait. Leave him to me.”

The blond stopped and let out a low breath. She walked closer, picked up the gun, and checked the safety. She clicked it off. The blood pounded in her ears like a sporadic drum. Her eyes pierced him.

Hawkmoth’s right hand man.

Gabriel Agreste.

“Please take off his suit jacket. Make sure he doesn’t have any hidden weapons.”

Marinette could hardly believe her voice was so calm. The gun wasn’t shaking even though her fingers felt like blocks of ice. It was as if she wasn’t herself anymore, but someone spectating over her shoulder.

She came closer and a wave of disgust washed over her.

 _Luka_.

Adrien ripped the suit coat off the tall man’s shoulders with such violent force, Bourgeois was thrown backwards on the carpet. He let out a whimper of pain. Adrien patted down his clothes and body, fishing out a small pocket knife and a tiny, one-shot sleeve gun. Tucking the gun into his belt, the cat man tossed the pocketknife down the hallway.

Though his fright was evident through his agony, Bourgeois swallowed thickly and gave her a trembling smirk. “I’m guessing you’re Ladybug. Prettier than your picture. I was never informed you had an alley cat.”

“He’s the least of your worries,” she said softly and a swell of rage washed through her. Raising the gun with a steady hand, she took several steps closer. The barrel rested right between his eyes and he paled further, cross-eyed.

“Chat, if you wouldn’t mind, could you keep an eye out on the back hallway? Others might have heard the shots and I need to speak with Monsieur Bourgeois.”

“You heard her, you pussy,” the hotel owner spat bravely at Adrien, whose right green eye twitched. “Hope you stick around though. I’d like to get a collar on both of you.”

“Make it quick,” the black cat hissed, before fading into the shadows like a spectre.

“I-I won’t tell you a fucking thing. Go ahead and kill me,” he jeered at her.

“That’s fine with me,” she said, her voice almost monotone. Stepping up, she stomped her foot hard on his right leg and he howled in pain. “You thought I came here to get answers out of you, but you got it all wrong. I already know everything. I’m here for a different reason altogether.”

He was gasping, his already pale face growing white. “That’s a load of shit!”

“Putting together legal documents to permanently keep the Commandement des Opérations Spéciales out of Paris. If I killed you, what would that do to Hawkmoth’s plans?”

“You don’t know anything. Even if you kill me, Hawkmoth will-”

“Will what?” She clicked her tongue. “Kidnap more? It will all come tumbling down eventually, Bourgeois. You know it will. Hawkmoth can’t keep this up forever.”

“He’s more powerful than you could possibly-”

“Two bullets, you asshole,” Marinette snarled, her anger surfacing. “One for you and one for him.”

“You’re going to have to find him first.”

“After I’m done here, _Agreste_ will be next.”

The flabbergasted silence was like a rock dropping into a still pond. Her heart seemed to burn in her chest and she tried to keep from shaking. Bourgeois visage changed from several shades of purple to a bone white. Licking his lips, he tried to speak. Tried to deny. But it was too late.

Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste.

_Adrien._

“Did you think that because I’m a pretty little girl I wouldn’t figure it out. We’ve had you pegged for years, Bourgeois. Speaking of, I owe you something for what you did to Luka.”

“Who the fuck is-”

A gunshot rang from down the hallway and made both Marinette and Bourgeois jump in surprise. Glancing behind her, she saw Adrien using the wall as cover and a bullet ping down the right side.

“Marinette, time to go!” He yelled, turning to sprint down the hall to her. “Our cop assassin is down the hall!”

Before Adrien could reach her, she pulled the trigger. The bullet thundered out of the gun and she watched with a sick pleasure. His face frozen in surprise. A tiny trail of blood dripped from the hole in his forehead while the back of his head splattered on the ruby red carpet. She let the satisfaction wash over her before she grabbed Adrien’s outstretched claws and they thundered together down the hallway back towards the utility stairs.

Bursting through the metal doors, Marinette gasped. There were voices coming up from the stairs on the first floor. They were trapped - unless…

“Let’s go!” Adrien called, pulling her to the left and up another flight of stairs.


	10. Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug and Black Cat parkour.

Theo’s smile was strained as he jogged swiftly around the corner of the carpet hallway. The back door slammed shut, but his amber gaze focused on the two bodies lying in the middle of the floor. One of them was Master 60: Andre Bourgeois.

Pleasant warm shivers ran through him at the sight of the hole in his head, parts of the back of his skull sprinkled on the carpet. A groan from the other man made Theo tilt his head with a frown.

“Theo,” the man gasped, his eyes bleary. “She’s here. Ladybug. You have to help-”

With a lazy finger, Theo raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Watching the life leave his body instantly, he smiled and stepped over the two dead bodies to continue jogging to the back staircase.

* * *

Loud clapping echoes of thick rubber soles stomping up the steps beat a distorted rhythm in the dark stairwell. Adrien could sense them only a few flights down. Grabbing a smoking pellet from his belt, he tossed it over the railing as they continued up the last staircase. His rational mind reeled with possible ways to escape. He had two full clips for Alya’s pistol tucked away. Marinette, judging from what she did to Bourgeois, knew how to handle herself with that repeater. They could wait the few seconds it’d take for their pursuers to catch up to them and then simply gun them down.

That would put Marinette in too much risk. From the sound of it, Bourgeois had more men than just those two downstairs.

Was the chance of them standing their ground worth it?

Fight or flight? Fight or flight?

Marinette’s small hand held tight around his own. Her footfalls fell in step with his. He had to make the right decision for her sake.

And Adrien always followed his instincts.

The pellet exploded just as they reached the top. The screams seemed to vibrate the very walls of the stairwell. Standing at a door that glowed red from a bright EXIT sign, her illuminated face was nodding and panting, “The roof!”

Checking the door handle, he wasn’t surprised that it was locked. With a grunt, Adrien smashed his steel boot against the door with all his strength and it popped open with a ferocious bang. Without a moment’s pause, Adrien pushed Marinette through the door and turned to the stairwell. Putting both hands on the pistol, he aimed down the staircase and waited. The voices and steps were passing his smoke pellet now - growing louder.

Any second now.

“Go to the apartments like I told you! Make the jump from the roof! I’ll take them out from here!”

He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the utter repulsion in her voice. “Are you _crazy!_ I’m not leaving you behind!”

“Go, Marinette!”

They were approaching the top of the second to last flight. He could see their flashlights zipping off the walls.

“NO!” she hollered. He was speechless as her small body moved to stand right beside him. Aiming her gun and mimicking his stance, a shadow of a man’s body passed in the darkness and her gun fired. A cry issued out. Adrien jumped. Male voices jumbled in an echoing mix of confusion. Green eyes narrowing, he pulled the trigger twice.

"Shit, my leg! They got my leg!"

"Go back! Go back! Go back!"

"Help me! Oh, God, I can't move!"

"I'll kill you, bastards!"

Another shadow fell over the steps and Adrien heard Marinette’s repeater go off before he could begin to aim for it. The man fell back with a crumbling step and collapsed at the foot of the stairs.

“Let’s go!” She grabbed his hand and tugged him out the door with her.

Her hand was warm.

Racing together on the rooftop, the wind blew hard against their bodies, slowing their steps. Adrien’s stomach tightened with tension as he studied the gap. The roof of the apartments was further than he’d originally thought. He knew he could make the jump, but Marinette…?

Glancing at the shorter, panting woman beside him, he squeezed her hand and pulled her towards a corner of the building for cover. The rest of the Bourgeois’ guards were probably clearing the last step on the stairs.

Adrien weighed his options: Try her chances at jumping the gap, take a stand on the roof, or find another way down. A sour taste filled his mouth. Had he killed them both coming up here?

“What are you doing?” she shouted through the wind once they’d ducked behind the brick wall. Adrien didn’t answer, but instead took his hand out of hers to check the ammo in his pistol. Three more bullets. Ejecting the magazine, he fished out a fresh clip and popped it in.

“We need to keep running, Adrien! They’re right behind us!”

Adrien shook his head and his blond hair swung into his eyes. “The jump. It’s too big, Marinette. You’ll never make it. We have to make a stand here.” Seeing her disbelief, her fear, he felt his heart break. Guilt rushed and tightened his throat. The wind tossed her hair, her pigtails dancing in the breeze. She was so beautiful and smart and brave and fierce and she was going to die.

Marinette was too good for a death like this. Gunned down when they’d almost made it.  

His vision flicked to the abandoned shack from so long ago. He could feel the heat of the explosion. See the burning corpses -

It was his fault.

He was never strong enough.

What was he going to do?

Her blue eyes shifted over to the edge of the hotel and he watched her face fall into a grim resolution. “I will make it. I have to. We don’t know how many people are after us now. There may be more coming. The assassin has probably alerted his entire agency. We can’t stay up here. I bet they are getting a helicopter ready to pick us off.”

Adrien’s amplified hearing picked up the rubber soles of shoes crunching on the gravely roof. Faint male voices called to one another. He couldn’t concentrate. He felt like his brain was frozen. Caught in a self-made trap.

“They’ve come. We’ve waiting too long behind this wall," she growled. Their eyes connected and he could see her anger - her frustration.

“There’s gotta be an outside emergency exit somewhere…” Adrien reached down and took the repeater out of her hand. Her mouth popped open with indignation, but he silenced her by stepping closer and forced her to look up into his eyes. “Please, Marinette, don’t jump. With your gun, I can hold them off. I’ll try to occupy them as long as possible. Give you enough time to get to another exit. I can find it on my map-”

She suddenly glared up at him so fiercely, he stopped.

“You self-sacrificing son of a-” She cut off her own words and he gasped as he felt the unexpected pressure of her head on his chest. Her arms had flung tightly around his neck and squeezed. Feeling her warm breath on his suit, his brain was so distracted that, by the time he was about to hug her back, she was already letting him go and smiling up at him sadly.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I’m sorry I said those things to you in the alleyway. You are a true hero, Adrien, and I don’t deserve you. I want you to know you are nothing like Hawkmoth. I will never blame you for what he has done.”

He rewarded her with a handsome look of confusion. “Hawkmoth? I don’t understand. What?-”

“You need to know since there is a very real chance I won’t survive. Hawkmoth, the one behind all of this… he is your father: Gabriel Agreste. Bourgeois confirmed it just now. I’m so sorry, Adrien. I’m so, so sorry.”

She looked at him with pity. With pain. For him.

But the world around him was slowing.

She wasn’t making any sense.

He wanted to laugh at her, but there was an explosion inside his head followed by shell-shocked quiet. He could hear his breath, hear his heart beating, but - even through his own amplified ears - sound became muted.

Marinette reached up, pulled his head down, and kissed his cheek.

And then she was gone.

Turning away from him, she sprinted out of the cover towards the jump. Adrien stared transfixed, his heart lurching in his chest at her swinging pigtails, her legs pushing her to gain speed. The wind whipped and clawed at her leather jacket.

 _She’s going to do it_ , he realized limply, all thoughts leaving except for one fact.

_She’s going to jump and she’s going to die._

A faint voice from around the wall woke him from his horror and Adrien’s teeth gritted behind his lips. At the rush of determination, anger, and adrenaline, he slipped from the shadows and instantly zeroed in on a taller suited man aiming at Marinette’s body. With a snarl, Adrien shot without a second thought and the man collapsed. His mind clicked and he was Chat Noir. A flash of five faces zipped through his head and he instantly relaxed his breathing.

That’s right.

His teammate depended on him.

 _Ladybug_ depended on him.   

Using both the repeater and Alya’s pistol, he began to run after Marinette, shooting as he went. A volley of screams burst from each pull of his triggers. Likewise, Adrien felt the bullets zipped past his body with increasing accuracy.

 _Click-click-click_ \- The repeater was empty.

Adrien threw it and shot another man in the face at the same time. Glancing at her, he saw Marinette nearing the edge. His stomach turned sharply as her feet lifted her off the roof and she sailed over the gap. She gave a small scream. Her feet brushed a few inches short of the apartment’s ledge and she began to fall-

Her hands caught the edge. She was hanging like a swinging target.

A sharp pain bloomed into his left forearm followed by another zing of pain in his right shoulder. Adrien turned and gave three more shots.

Three more yells followed.

Racing like his heart, he tucked the gun into his belt, ran to the edge, and his stomach gave a flip-flop as he flew across the dark alleyway below. His feet thundered solidly on the slightly slanted, shingled roof and he ran to her. A bullet whistled into the brick near her head.

“Pull me up! Pull me up!” She shrieked.

Grabbing her hands, he practically tossed her into his arms. They sprinted together over the skewed rooftop, feet slipping on the slick shingles. Pings of bullets clacked into various concrete and brick around them. Crossing to the other side of the pointed roof, Adrien yelp as his feet slipped out from under him. Both he and Marinette landed hard on their backsides and began to slide off the dangerously steep roof. She screamed in terror. Together, they clawed at the smooth shingles, trying to find a grip. Reflex took over his mind as they plummeted closer to the edge. Adrien grabbed her hand and, as they both slid off to meet the ground below, he latched his left hand firmly on the drainage pipe. A shot of agony burst through his muscles and all the way down his back. He held her tightly as both their bodies hung off the edge of the building. He let out an involuntary hiss of pain and he closed his eyes against the throb in his forearm and right shoulder. His strong fingers clamped on the metal piping. Gritting his teeth, he tried to think.

Calm down. Think of something. There’s always something-

"Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God-" She whimpered below him.

“Marinette…” He could barely get his voice to work properly. His fingers felt like they were coming off.

“Adrien…” he heard her voice catch with a sob. “What do we do?”

“Uhhh…” he grunted. The wind brushed roughly against him and he trembled with both pain and fear. The spikes of agony in his arm and back were becoming excruciating. He could see the hole in his suit, blood trailing down his arm and bleeding into his collar. “I’m still… thinking…”

An unwanted creak from the drainage pipe almost stopped Adrien’s heart. It bent forward with their combined weight.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God-”

“Do you… see anything?”

“I don’t- wait…” She gasped.

Adrien felt her fingers squeeze his in surprise.

“Adrien, drop me!”

“ _WHAT?_ ”

“There’s a balcony right below me!”

“There… is? How far… below?”

“About three meters! Not enough of a fall to hurt too badly!”

“Are you… sure?”

“Unless you want to hang around like this all day! Just do it!”

He felt her other hand reach up to pry his fingers off. Hating himself, he exhaled, let her go, and heard feet hitting concrete. A crash of something breaking followed and she let out a small grunt.

“Ouch! Try to avoid the potted plants.”

Freed from her weight, he glanced down and saw her straightening herself on a stained, marble balcony right below him. A startling amount of potted plants encompassed the tiny landing. In less than a minute, she’d shoved enough of the plants out of his way and he released his cramping fingers off the drain pipe. Landing beside her, he immediately clutched his arm painfully to his chest. Gasping for breath, they faced each other, shock of the past few minutes evident on both their faces.

“You were shot! Your arm! Your shoulder!” she cried.

Adrien’s eyes widened in alarm and he shushed her with a quick glance at the dark balcony door. Her hand reached for him, but he shook his head.

“We need… to keep going… Let’s take care of this… later…” he gasped, his muscles throbbing and his wounds feeling like fire. Trying to peek through at the curtained glass doors, the room looked completely dark. He checked the lock on the door with his vision growing hazy. Cylinder lock. Easy enough even in this state.

“Adrien… are you going to be okay?”

“Let’s just hope they aren’t home,” he hissed through his teeth as he grabbed for the screwdriver in his lock pick pouch. “We’ll have to get through these apartments to get down.”

“You need to take care of yourself before we go anywhere else. You’re bleeding really badly…” Her voice was shaking, but he ignored her for the moment; using all his concentration on twisting the screwdriver into the support screw of the lock. It came off the door and he turned the latched handle silently.

Suddenly, his amplified ears picked up the sound of men’s voices echoing through the street, down the alleyway.

“Get in, get in!” He grabbed her shoulder and shoved through the door first - and winced as she tripped on the curtains and collided with a small bookshelf sitting along the wall. Marinette landed undignified on all fours covered in books. Sliding the balcony doors closed, he stumbled to her.

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“I’m thankful they are just paperbacks.”

She shook her head, pigtails tossing and blinked her blue eyes up at him. She stood up and wrapped her hands around his chest, helping to guide him further into the apartment. On shaking legs, they waited for a moment, listening, while her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Adrien could already tell the tiny apartment was completely empty. His cat ear twitched to the left and he heard a voice call from outside.

There wasn’t much time.

“Despite the loud entrance, looks like our luck hasn’t run out after all,” she whispered. They caught eyes and she suddenly let him go with a gasp and a blush.

His skin felt warm where her hands had been.

“We need to search for supplies.”

Adrien shook his head. “We shouldn’t stay. I can hear them. They’re on their way.”

“You’re not going to get very far with two gunshot wounds.”

“They’ll expect us to be here. We disappeared over the roof and now there’s a convenient balcony? This will be the first place they’ll look. Besides, I am kind of leaving a trail of red here.”

“Then don’t you think we should stop the bleeding before you die?”

She had a good point, but he still didn’t like it. Adrien exhaled shortly and his vision decided to roller coaster with vertigo. Feeling her hands steady him again, he knew she’d take that as a winning argument. Once he was stable on his feet, she shot him a small, dimpled smile and walked quietly past him to the dark hallway.

“Stay here. I’ll find something for you.”

“Wait, Marinette-”

“Let me be the hero for once. If you need something to do, fix the bookshelf you knocked me into.”

"We need to..." his voice fell as she disappeared around the corner, "...stick... together." He groaned. 

Seemed like she was deciding to be difficult. _Again._

Turning around, he grabbed a handful of books and stacked them on the small shelves. Bending down to pick up more, his vision gave a wavering twirl and he almost lost his balance. Adrien closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the edge of a shelf. With a wince, he conceded. Yep, she was right. He was losing too much blood to ignore it. Though his suit seemed to have caught most of the damage, as he’d deduced before, the fabric certainly wasn’t bulletproof all the way. Adrien had to admit he would have probably been in much worse shape if he hadn’t put it on. Glancing at his arm, he grimaced at the accumulating blood drops on the cheap floor paneling.

His shoulder was a little better than his arm, his breastplate having caught the bullet - but it was still bleeding. Reaching for his zipper at his throat, he pulled it down to his waist and swallowed down his whimper of agony as he gently pulled his arms out. The top of the one piece suit flopped over his backside. Scuffing the toe of his boot against the floor to blend the bloodstains into fake wood, Adrien frowned as the tip of his steel toe hit a small stick that was stuck on the paneling. Bending down with a quiet hiss, he touched a metal hinge that was painted to look like the floor. If he hadn’t been trying to smudge out his blood, he wouldn’t have noticed it at all. He felt the floor. A thin line of a trap door.

What was it with France and trap doors?

Glancing around the quiet room, he stuck his fingernails into the door and pried it open.


	11. Hidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug and Black Cat cuddle

Adrien had a good point.

The assassins were right on their tail - pun intended.

Yes, he _was_ technically a superhero soldier cat-man, but Marinette knew he wouldn’t last long with his wounds. Running wasn’t an option anymore. A kick of guilt hitched her stomach. He wouldn’t have been shot if she hadn’t run off the roof like that, but - _no._ No, she didn’t need to dwell on bad decisions. Not right now. He was depending on her like she had depended on him earlier. They had agreed to be partners, a team.

Right now, she needed to patch him up.

Marinette’s blue eyes flicked from one small room to the next. The bedroom came up with nothing. Just a closet full of junk and a small twin bed with a butterfly coverlet. Heading back to the kitchen, she blinked at the happy yellow wallpaper backed by yellow counter-tops and brilliant orange chair covers sitting around a light brown table. Opening the equally yellow cabinets, it took her only a few minutes to find a small first aid tucked behind cleaning supplies. Lifting the lid, she found a suture kit, bandages, and something that resembled pain pills, but she wasn’t sure.

Marinette clicked her tongue. No rubbing alcohol. He’d need those wounds cleaned. 

Guess their luck was running thin.

A loud banging noise erupting from the front door made her jump in fright and knock over several wine glasses on the shelf. Closing the cabinets with frantically shaking hands, she rushed out of the kitchen just as the door thundered again. Her panic skyrocketed at the muffled voices outside it.

Running to the living room, Marinette gasped and immediately her panic froze as her brain registered exposed abs.

Adrien’s green eyes zipped into hers and he point at an open trap door in the floor.

“How did you- what happened to your  _suit_?” she squeaked. The lean muscles on his arms and shoulders flexed as the door gave another ferocious bang.

“Ask questions later! Get in!”

Hurrying over with a heated blush, Marinette grimaced at the small hole in the floor. It had several small cardboard boxes stuffed inside. Hardly enough room for two full grown adults. She folded herself inside and put the first aid near her head. Shifting a box out of her way, she laid flat against the dusty floorboard and tried not to think about the black pellets around her that showcased another potential resident in there.

As she settled, Adrien jumped in behind her and crouched low to close the hatch. It snapped shut, leaving them in complete darkness except his glowing green eyes. She watched, her heart pounding tightly, as he lifted a hand and pressed against his mask.

Suddenly, his eyes were gone. They were both blind. She straddled him between her legs, his body hovering over hers - and it was so warm she felt a heat flush from her head to her toes.

Trying to hold her catching breath, Marinette laid still as Adrien bent his back and grabbed a small handle on the hatch door to make sure it was securely in place. They both flinched as the door burst open not a moment later and several feet clamored inside. She jerked as his right hand grazed her side and his leg brushed against her ankle. The footfalls pounded into the living room and she felt Adrien lean further down on top of her. The tips of his blond hair brushed against her collarbone. She tried to keep her breathing quiet and steady, but the stress, adrenaline, and closeness of an incredibly handsome and shirtless Adrien were beginning to take a toll on her mental state.

Inhaling was coming in short gasps. Her thigh involuntarily twitched against his waist. The ghost of his nose brushed on her chin as his head turned towards her. She jumped again as she felt his right hand reach up and felt for her shoulder. He glided up to the side of her neck.

“Relax,” he breathed at her. His mouth was close, his breath falling on her face. “Relax, Marinette.”

His fingers gently pressed and massaged the back and side of her neck. Her body instantly began to tingle and a calmness washed over her. Marinette felt her muscles unwinding, her breathing leveling out, and she closed her eyes against the wonderful pressure. His fingers weren’t clawed with the suit, but slightly calloused and warm. Adrien’s hand smelled like blood, but felt wonderful.

His chest pressed lightly on her as several footsteps boomed above them.

She’d almost forgotten exactly where she was…

Almost.

It was at least thirty minutes. The thundering feet pounded back and forth on the floorboards overhead. Something was ripped open, cabinets were wrenched open and slammed shut, shouts of frustrations echoed back and forth. Adrien’s fingers stopped caressing her neck as a calm set of footsteps clacked into the room and stopped right above their heads. She heard him swallow quietly.

“The lock was broken on the balcony door, so that means they were here. I found some blood drops on the balcony, but nothing else so far. There isn’t a sign of them besides that.”

Silence followed as the footsteps slowly moved closer.

“What do you suggest we do, Theo? This is your mission after all.”

“They are in this apartment, somewhere in the building, or in the surrounding buildings. I think you better find them before I chop you up and bury you in the floorboards.” The man, Theo, laughed, but there was no humor in it. Adrien’s fingers jerked against her skin. She slid her hand up silently to place it over his. Her heart skipped a beat as he moved to interlock his fingers through hers.  

“I’ll go with the men to search the next building over. This apartment is empty. If they are anywhere, they are probably hiding in the bakery next door. I’ll post a man outside the front door just in case.”

“Make it your top priority that they are found.”

“Who is this man with her?”

Theo tapped his heels gently on the floor above their heads. “An interesting question. Monsieur Adrien Agreste.

"Agreste!? You don't mean-?

"Estranged son of our esteemed Mayor, Gabriel Agreste. Pretty low-key individual. No wife or girlfriend. Got a job in construction three years ago.”

“And before that?”

“The agency is on it. That’s all they could give me so far.”

“No friends?”

“Well,” Theo let out a small chuckle. “There is a couple he’s been known to associate with. Nino and Alya Lahiffe. I’ve been considering paying them a little visit.”

Adrien’s shoulders trembled and his fingers shook with hers.

_Nathaniel…_

“Let the agency know I’m waiting for the files. Tell them to send them to me within the next five hours or I will act on my own.”

“But, Theo, you shouldn’t-”

There was a quiet slicing noise and Marinette’s gasp was thankfully covered by the other man’s loud yelp of pain. Footsteps stumbling back towards the balcony windows, something heavy thudded against the glass.

“Do you like your appearance?” Theo’s dark voice hissed. “Do you like the way your mouth curves or your straight nose or your lovely oval eyes? You see this blade? You want to tell me what I shouldn’t do again?” He let out a bark of a laugh. “What are you giving me that look for? Why don’t we go ahead and start with your makeover because you obviously came here to waste my damn time with questions.”

Another thud bounced off the floor.

“Are you trying to leave? But I want you to tell me what I shouldn’t do while they escape further. I want you to tell me what I shouldn’t do while I slice off each finger and make you paint your clothes red with what's left of your hands.”

The man whimpered.

“No? You don’t want to?”

“N-no…” the man’s voice came out in a shaky whisper.

“Then get the fuck out of my sight.”   

The sound of their footsteps clicked away - the poor man’s at a much quicker pace - and Marinette heard a low muttering from the entryway:

“Place a man outside this building. We’ll be searching the surrounding areas.”

The front door shut and the entire apartment fell silent. They lay frozen together. Waiting. Hardly breathing. After about two solid minutes, she heard Adrien’s foot shift into a cardboard box.

His forehead hit the floor near her ear and his body collapsed completely on top of her.


	12. Patched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug plays doctor

Her cerulean eyes blown wide, her heart skipped a beat as his breath disturbed the small hairs near the nape of her neck and shivers ran up and down her limbs. If she wasn’t so worried and stressed and enveloped in panic, she would have probably squeaked and blushed at the now highly provocative position they were both in. Him, his full body nestled between her legs, pressing her hard against the floor-

“A-Adrien-” she could barely speak.

“S-sorry…” his voice was sluggish. He wiggled slightly trying to brace himself up once more, but his elbow gave out and he fell. The breath left her lungs as his entire body pinned her to the floor with a dead weight.

“H-Hey,” she whispered, strained by both the heaviness on her chest and the torrent of tightly coiled heat that shot up and down her spine. “I-I think we’re safe for now. Maybe we should get out of this hole and help your wounds.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea to… to…” he trailed off, muttering.

“You need first aid. We both can’t move in here. You’re thin, but you’re still pretty heavy.”

No reply.

“Adrien? Adrien!”

He grunted and she let out a tight sigh. It was getting hard to breathe.

“The coast is clear. We should get you cleaned up. You’ll bleed out if I don’t help you.”

“O-Okay…”

She frowned in concern as he continued to lay on her. She unlaced her hand from his fingers and felt for the wound on his arm. It was a goopy mess of chunky iron liquid. He hissed in pain near her ear.

“Get off of me! I need to help you!”

“Chloe? I thought you hated me…” his voice sounded faint as if he was caught in some dream. Marinette felt a stupid rush of jealousy wash through her.

Chloe was a girl’s name.

“Adrien, snap out of it and pull yourself together. We need to patch you up before you lose more blood!”

“I commanded Felix not to go… I ordered him to stay, but he didn’t listen…”

“Oh, God, this is bad,” Marinette gasped, tasting fear. Taking his broad shoulders in her hands, she groaned as she tried to push him upward. He shifted only slightly off of her. She wiggled, trying to free her legs. “Come on, super spy. You’re supposed to be cool and suave. You can shoot guns and drive all fast and spit cat puns.” She thought fast. “As President of the Super Spies, I order you to roll over so I can get up!”

To her surprise, it worked.

“Yes, ma’am…” Adrien groaned through his clenched teeth. He leaned to the right.

“That’s it, soldier,” she coaxed, using her hands to help guide him as much as possible. “You need to lie on your back.”

It was an awkward five minutes, but finally - a panting, sweating, but triumphant Marinette was Chat-free, holding the first aid, and straddling his bare waist. She couldn’t see his face, but she could tell from his hard gasping that he was slowly losing the battle with consciousness.

“Stay awake, soldier. We need you for the frontline.” She knew she was saying nonsense, but he seemed to respond. A quiet, “yes, ma’am” answered her and she sighed in relief.

“Where is that blasted handle?” Marinette hissed, small fingers searching for the trap door latch. She wrenched it open and evening light spilled inside. Looking down, she knew there was no way she could move him by herself. She’d have to patch him up right there with the cardboard boxes and mouse poop. Marinette leaned close and tried to see his face, but the darkness was unforgiving.

She needed a flashlight.

Setting the first aid kit on a nearby box and trying to remain calm, she shimmied out of the hole and her eyes swiveled over the empty living room. The couch had been torn apart, cushions shredded. The small entertainment center with the television had been turned over and smashed. Even the coffee table was broken into splinters. She hoped the apartment’s owner had renter’s insurance.

Pulling herself out of the floor, she stepped quickly and quietly to the bathroom and pulled up all the yellow towels she could find in the cabinets. She knew from treating akuma wounds that tight pressure would be the best thing for him. Opening yellow drawer after yellow drawer with towels cradled in her arms, she prayed for a flashlight.

None.

Marinette moved on to the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets she hadn’t been able to check earlier.

Bingo!

A small blue flashlight was tucked away on the shelf above the refrigerator. Grabbing it, she flicked it on and relief hit her as a bright beam responded. Reaching into the bottom cabinets, she fetched a yellow bowl she’d seen earlier and turned on warm water. Running to the pantry, she scanned the shelves and her luck prevailed yet again. A large bottle of cheap whiskey.

Alcohol. Archaic, but that’ll work.

“Shock, shock, he might be in shock,” she said to herself, going through the steps of first aid in her head. Stumbling, trying to balance everything in her arms, she headed to the ransacked bedroom. Marinette gathered up the butterfly printed comforter that was sprawled on the floor, dumped the towels, flashlight, and whiskey on top, and dragged it to the living room near the trap door. Heading back to the kitchen, she stopped the water and slowly walked with the heavy bowl spilling slightly.

Setting the bowl down near the edge with the rest of her supplies, she picked out the flashlight and shined it on him. She held back a gasp. His entire left arm was matted with blood to his fingertips. His right shoulder had dripped red rivers down his chest to the edge of his tight suit just at his pelvis. Glancing down at her body, she was shocked at how she hadn’t noticed so much sticky blood drying on her clothes and skin.

“Adrien? Adrien, are you awake?”

He groaned and she almost staggered with relief. It was a wonder that he hadn't fainted already. His skin was a dangerous pale underneath the flashlight.

“Where… where am I?” Green eyes cracked open from behind the dark mask.

“You’re in the apartment in the floorboards,” she answered, lowering herself awkwardly down the hole and straddling him once more. She tried not to think about the position as she reached for a towel and the warm water.

“I am?”

“Try to stay awake, okay? I’m going to patch you up. Do you remember who I am? Why we’re here?”

He moaned weakly. Wet towel hovering over his arm, she held her breath before wrapping it around the wound tightly. Adrien cried out, but didn’t push her away. She tied it off, letting simple pressure work it’s magic for the time being.

“You’re Marinette. We’re here because - because there’s an assassin.” He finally said through gasps.

“Right, good enough.”

Plucking another towel and dipping it in the water, she moved to his shoulder. This was more shallow, but still bleeding, right above his collarbone. Mopping up the red from his stomach and chest, she ruined two more towels before she finally reached the bullet wound. Her blue eyes stayed steady on her hands, but she couldn’t help acknowledging the tight excitement that coursed through her at touching his toned abs - even through a fluffy towel.

Jesus, he was too pretty.

Checking the bloody hole in his shoulder, the bullet hadn’t gone inside, thankfully, and the wound was shallower than she was lead to believe. She clicked her tongue, impressed. That was some armor he had on. Marinette plucked out a large bandage from the kit and gently pressed it on.

That should work. Now for that arm…

Rising up slightly on his hips, she picked up the whiskey, more towels, and set them down beside her. Yanking the fluffy comforter into the hole, it was several minutes of cumbersome shifting before she managed to tuck the comforter around the lower part of his body. Picking one of the smaller cardboard boxes, Marinette raised his feet. Settling in a spot next to his side instead of on top of him, she pulled his bloody arm across her lap. It was, by far, the worst of the wounds. It needed to be cleaned thoroughly. The bullet seemed to have passed through muscle and meat. She was thankful.

Though he was unlucky to get shot, he was lucky on how it was done. It hadn’t hit bone.

The smell of iron, the stickiness of blood, her mind flashed to Luka and she clenched her teeth behind her lips. So familiar. Too familiar. Both lying there with her beside them; battered, bloody, and weak.

A burn hit behind her eyes, but she brushed it away quickly.

Not now.

“Try to relax, Adrien. You gotta stay completely still. Keep talking to me.”

“What should I say?” he groaned out.

Marinette swallowed and casually asked, “Who’s Chloe?”

Green eyes flew open from behind his mask. “How do you know that name?”

“You have to relax. I want you to stay calm. You called me Chloe a few minutes ago. I was just wondering who that might be.”

“She’s… she’s someone from my past. From a lifetime ago…”

Marinette sighed. “I believe you promised to tell me about that. Can’t think of a better time or place.”

“Is it really safe? Wasn’t the assassin just in here?”

“I guess you didn’t hear them say they were going to check in other buildings. They mentioned posting a man outside the front door to the apartments. I figured it was safe to move around a little bit. I can shut us back in here once I’m done fixing you up. For now, I want you to lie still and stay awake. I’m not opposed to slapping you in the face if you fall asleep on me.”

“Me-ouch, Ladybug. So _catty_ to the injured.” His lips curled into a small smile and she instantly felt the knot in her stomach relax. The puns were more of a comfort than she cared to admit.

“I’ll keep _bugging_ you until you tell me, you know.”

His smile grew wider and his uninjured right hand suddenly lifted as if to touch her face, but he winced in pain. A whelp of blood appeared through the bandage on his shoulder and she scowled before making him lower his arm back to his side - not wanting to reflect on why he’d want to touch her in the first place. Despite his pain, he let out a small noise of protest as she sat back further out of reach.

“What on earth are you doing? Don’t you know what ‘stay still’ means?”

He smirked. “I guess I’m just a bad listener. Gonna _pun-_ ish me?”

It seemed losing a ton of blood had brought back the cheekier side of Chat Noir. Rolling her eyes, but feeling calmer than she had in hours, she pressed a little tighter on the towel and he hissed.

“Behave. Are you going to tell me or not?”

His humor bled from his face as he whisked his green eyes away from her to stare at the floorboards above his head. “I… I guess…”

“You also said the name ‘Felix’.”

His arm jerked in her hands and he gave a yelp. “I talked about… God, what else did I say?”

“That I’m the most beautiful woman in the world,” she joked, trying to bring back his good mood.

“Can’t argue there,” he said easily - so simple it made a squeak leave her throat.

“I-I was kidding! You never said that!”

“I didn’t?” His eyes flicked back to her and she knew she was blushing furiously. “My lady, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

A twitch, a strangled and nervous giggle, and a terrible blush burned on her cheeks. It was awful, like her old fourteen-year old self. A smug lopsided smile spread on his lips and it made everything worse. His pupils were wide behind his mask, and, though he’d turned off the illumination, she could see those green eyes clear as day through the flashlight.

“Alright, tomcat, I think you’ve lost so much blood your brain is malfunctioning-”

“Or maybe I’ve lost just enough to stop holding back,” he said softly, the smile falling. “Rationalization has always been a strong suit with me, Marinette. Reading situations, following my instincts. It’s kept me alive…”

She waited, holding his arm, watching the towel slowly soak up his gunshot wound. A bullet that could have easily been for her instead.  

“Felix, my older brother… he’s been dead for about four or five years now. He was the sterner one of the two of us. My father-” he stopped, his eyes suddenly growing wide. “Wait. I remember now. You said something before. On the roof. Before you jumped. You said my father was-”

His words tangled, but he shot her with a stare so desperate, she couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Marinette. You told me my father was… that he was…” the name dangled like a rope in the air.

“Hawkmoth,” she said softly.

Marinette felt the muscles in his arm tighten. His breath caught and he tried to speak, but the realization was already there. Freezing him.

She continued, the words spilling from her lips. “I figured it out in the maintenance closet at the hotel. While you were gone scouting down the hall, Bourgeois confirmed it. It’s true. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”   

“ _God… Goddamnit_ ,” he finally huffed out, shifting to stare at the floorboards. A torrent of emotions raced across his face. “I can’t… I don’t _want_ … how can he be? But… God, this is my fault. It has to be.” His face clenched as if holding something back from spilling. “I should have gone home. I shouldn't have run away. Even if he blamed me for Felix leaving, I should have done something. Jesus, Marinette, I can’t… He’s  _killed - kidnapped…_ and it’s my…”

Adrien’s breathing was becoming labored. His chest heaving.

Marinette felt her panic spike. This was not good.

“It’s okay… well, maybe _not_ okay, but I told you before, Adrien. I don’t hold you accountable. I never would. You’re my hero, remember? You have saved my life so many times already.”

He shook his head, his blond hair tossing into his eyes. “But if I’d just tried to figure it out. Tried to help you earlier. If I’d stopped thinking of myself and my own pain. I spent the last four years just… just wasting my life. Not caring. I could have stopped this. My own goddamn _father…_ ”

“You came to me when you were needed the most. It was predicted, Adrien. It was fated to happen this way. For us to meet and you to save me. Don’t blame yourself. He’s the villain. He’s the one who killed and tortured and kidnapped-”

“My father is the one who tried to take you. He killed your parents, Marinette.”

“I know, Adrien, but that doesn’t mean that it’s your-”

“He ordered the assassin after you.”

“That doesn’t matter because you saved-”

“Everyone you love is in danger. He killed Fu and your grandmother. He’s a monster.”

“Let’s not worry about that right-”

“He took Luka. He gave him to Bourgeois.”

He was watching her as she winced. She hadn’t meant to, but she couldn’t help it. It was as if Luka was becoming a taboo in her mind. Something that, when mentioned, could easily throw her off this mountain of strength she was continually climbing. Her mouth opened and closed and her stomach curled tightly at the sadness flooding in his eyes.

“You love Luka, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

“I…” she didn’t want to say it, but she would be lying, “yes.”

Her head bowed to avoid him and her pigtails brushed over her chin. He didn’t show any pain as she unwrapped the sticky towel, scooted the first aid kit closer, and fished out the stitching supplies. She threaded the needle and set it aside on the kit. Plucking up another towel, she opened the whiskey and poured a generous amount on it.

“I’ll kill Hawkmoth then.”

Her blue eyes open wide. “ _What?_ ”

His resolve was stronger than his pain. There was a steel wall in front of his thoughts - locking them from her. His handsome face was blank. “I’ll kill him. For you. For Luka. For the future you could have together. For everyone’s sake. It’s the least I can do-”

“No!” The word burst from her so forcefully, he stopped.

The silence was tight, pulled taut like a string.

Without explaining her outburst, she muttered, “This is going to hurt.”

“I’m ready,” he whispered - but his loud cry said otherwise as she pressed the alcohol soaked towel on his arm. His legs wiggled and he was sweating, his blond hair sticking to his forehead and the sides of his neck. Wrapping the towel to the other side where the bullet had passed through, she placed her hand on his chest and he immediately reached to grab her fingers. His grip was tight, but not painful. He stared at her face like she was a lifeline.

“Just a bit more,” she coaxed, “I’m almost done. Hold on, Adrien. Just stay with me.”

The pink skin still whelped blood, but it was much less. Marinette poured alcohol on the needle and looked at the veins popping out on his neck and forehead.

“Do you want a swig of it?” she offered the whiskey and he nodded immediately. Helping to tip the bottle to his lips, he choked, but a generous amount tossed down his throat and the sides of his mouth. He coughed, but he no longer twitched.

His teeth clacked together as the needle pulled through his skin. She worked quickly - fingers used to the hurried first aid when freeing akumas. Within three minutes, three navy X’s marked his tan forearm. Four joined on the other side where the bullet had escaped.

Adrien was panting, but looking surprisingly better.

“One more whiskey pour, okay? Need to make sure everything is clean. Do you want to drink more before I do it?”

“God, yes,” he rasped and she tipped the bottle once more to his lips. He managed better this time. His head tilting back on the ground after two full swallows, she immediately poured the alcohol on the stitches and her hand shot with pain at his grip.

“I’m done, I’m done, it’s over!” she called as he cried out, his back arching. “I’m going to wrap it up now, okay? Try to keep still!” Unwrapping the gauze, she watched two beads of sweat run down his hairline. He let go of her hand to settle back on the floor.

“What… what…” his toned chest was heaving.

“What is it?” Marinette secured the bandage and grabbed a fresh towel to keep the gauze tight.

“What did you mean… by ‘no’?” Adrien’s green eyes were squinting in the shadows of his pain. “You don’t… want Hawkmoth to die?”

There was a tightness in his voice that had nothing to do with his wounds, a conflict inside that was hurting him deeply. It was terribly ironic to know the very man who’d started this nightmare had a son. And that very son was the one who was destined to be by her side. It made her take a step back. To realize that Hawkmoth was actually a human being, who had children and a life. He was a monster, but… how could a monster have had such a kind and wonderful son like Adrien? One who was willing to kill his own father for her potential happiness?

He was too pretty - inside and out.

“That’s not it," she answered vaguely.

“But you want to be… with Luka, right?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” she sighed, wishing she hadn’t said anything at all.

“No one ever says the rest… of that proverb: satisfaction brought it back.”

Her lips curled into a ghost of a smile. He was already looking better; the corners of his eyes less tense, his breathing evening out. Marinette moved on to cleaning the rest of his forearm with warm water to keep from looking at him.

The towel brushed over his fingers and he grabbed the fabric, stopping her. “You said you love him.”

She made the mistake of glancing back at him. It was that damn look on his handsome face. Why did he have to look so vulnerable? So open? It wasn’t fair. Adrien was already way too beautiful to be normal, but _that._ Marinette rolled her eyes, but she knew her cheeks were on the verge of a full on blush.

“I love him, but…”

“But?” he coaxed gently.

“Luka…” she paused before the words tumbled out, “he was a lifetime ago. I was a girl back then. Just a simple girl with a ridiculous crush. I always wanted more, but he never made a move. It was as if he kept me at arm’s length. He called me a good friend. Always a good friend. Years passed and I waited. He had girlfriends and I smiled through them all, knowing - _waiting_ for the moment when he’d just _realize_. But…” a deep breath to steady herself, “the kidnappings happened so fast. He never knew how I felt and I lost him. You could say that Ladybug was born because of him. He was a beacon I was trying so desperately to reach. A soul that I had to save in order to move on with my life. And now that I’ve freed him, Luka will always remain special in my heart, but…”

His mouth had fallen open, his eyes studying her every expression, her every twitch.

“I’ve realized how much of a hypocritical idiot I am. How I convinced myself I was saving others in this noble cause when I was really Ladybug for selfish reasons. I felt disappointment every time an akuma wasn’t him. They began to blend together. I’d free them, they’d go to the Orphanage, and it was _never_ him. You call me brave and good, but I’m a terrible person, Adrien. And now that Luka is _free…_ now that he’s actually...”

She hated the tear dripping down her cheek. She hated the look in his eyes: of kindness that she didn’t deserve. Here she was, crying over a life-long crush, and he’d just discovered his own father was the mastermind behind all this madness.

He’d called her beautiful not a few minutes ago.

And she’d just told him she loved Luka.

He really was too good for her.

“Luka loves you, too,” he said softly. “I could see it as clear as day at the Orphanage.”

She shook her head slowly, her ebony fringe falling over her eyes. “I love him, Adrien, but… it’s changed. What makes me so terrible is that, through all this Ladybug vigilante, I never realized I was holding on to feelings that were no longer there. I love Luka - but not like that. Not anymore. I’m too different. He doesn’t know me. The _real_ me. Maybe that was why I was always just a friend to him. I couldn’t show my true self. He looked at me and saw the gawky, hero-worshiping teenager. I could see it in his eyes. And I haven’t been that person in a long time. So, I love him, but I’d rather be with someone who sees me now. Who understands that I can take risks and don't want to be pushed aside. That I can pull a trigger and watch a life leave a body. Luka will never see that side of me. Of the _true_ me. And I’m okay with that. More than okay.”

She didn’t see a different spark ignite behind his cool green eyes.

Marinette stopped mopping his fingers and reached for fresh towel to avoid his eyes. What was she even saying? She wasn’t making any sense. It was embarrassing and a relief and yet it hurt, too. To finally admit it. To lay all her feelings down. Like peeling the skin back from an age old blister. She grabbed another thick bandage from the kit and gently eased the ruined one off from his shoulder. The wound was clotting, but just a bit torn.

“No more moving. You’re ruining all my hard work,” she scolded with a tremble in her voice. Her hands shook as she slipped the towel in the yellow bowl - which was steadily turning a rich red - and cleaned off his shoulder once more.

Apparently, he noticed her trembling.

“Take a drink of whiskey,” he suggested suddenly. “You look like you need it.”

A hint of a laugh escaped her throat. “I’m not that big of a drinker, really.”

“All the more to try it.”

“It smells horrible.”

“You don’t know that. It actually tastes a level below Douro Valley Port.”

This time, despite herself, she did laugh. “I _know_ you’re lying.”

“Would I ever lie to you, bugaboo?”

She just smiled, replacing the bandage.

“Marinette.”

Adrien said her name with such gentleness, her fingers froze over his shoulder and she looked at him. The soft sincerity that she didn’t deserve radiated from his eyes.  

“Even if it was just for Luka, you still acted. You are still Ladybug: a symbol of hope for those who are lost. Me?…” He stopped for a moment. “My father is Hawkmoth and I didn’t even know it. I didn’t even try. You want to talk about selfish, at least you _did_ something. At least you cared enough to give a damn about those poor akuma. I lived like a ghost for so long.”

He was quiet. She fell silent, too, setting his arm off her lap and more comfortably down at his side on the coverlet.

The darkness held his confession like a pin balanced on it’s point.

And suddenly, the pin dropped.

And he began his story.


	13. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Black Cat tells his past

“My mother left when I was young. About eight or nine.”

His green eyes never left hers, but they were suddenly frosted with memories.

“My _father_ ,” the word came out rough, “grieved by pushing us away. Felix, my older brother, was my only support - but he was a lot like father. Too much like him at times. Very cold and distant. We were both home-schooled. Best tutors money can buy. After he graduated, Felix lied about his age and signed up with the army. My father was enraged when he found out. They fought the night before he left. But he still left. Just like mom. I was alone. And father was colder than ever.”

She was silent, listening.

“Felix was already past boot camp and assigned by the time I signed up. I worked hard, so hard, to graduate school as fast as possible. To pass every single subject with the utmost perfection. If father was proud of me, I never knew it.” His face turned with disgust. “I left in the middle of the night and I didn’t look back. Father never knew I’d followed Felix’s footsteps. I rode the train, the first time I’d done it without an escort, and it was _freedom._ ”

“I’m glad you got away,” Marinette said softly.

“My leaving might have been the trigger for him. I knew father hadn’t grieved properly when mother left, and now to lose both his sons… if I’d just stepped up. Tried harder… But instead, I left him as well.”

Marinette watched as Adrien’s thin chest rose with a deep sigh. Her blue eyes flicked to his hand resting near her knee and she felt the urge to hold it.

She stopped herself before she did something stupid.

Instead, for distraction, she asked, “How was it being in the army?”

Unexpectedly, a hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “As it turns out, I fit really well with the army. It was different from anything I’d ever experienced. I was already very proficient in fencing and could speak multiple languages, but I hit the number one mark for stealth drills and excelled working through situational strategies. I learned later they used some of my infiltration plans for real missions. I was elected leader of my training platoon. I reveled in it. It was the first time I was truly listened to. My opinions mattered. My suggestions were weighted with care. I wasn’t shut down or pushed aside, but respected. And then, the Opérations Spéciales got involved. They offered me a job as soon as I graduated to cadet.”

“You’re des Opérations Spéciales? As in France's secret service?” Marinette blinked in surprise.

He nodded with a spark of pride. “Within a span of a few short months, I was elevated from the standard training to special divisions training. In less than a year, I was given permission to pick my own small combat squad.”

“Wow,” Marinette breathed, "that's such a short amount of time. And you were so young."

He shrugged humbly and winced at his shoulder. “I picked five people. I approached the first person I knew I could trust with my life: Felix. He’d just finished an Infiltrator Mechanics course when I found him again. He was shocked to see me. He hadn’t known I joined. And just like that, we were back together again - just like he’d never left all those years ago. He wasn’t as cold, the time away from Father improving him for the better, but he was still quiet, calculating, and quick.

“Next was Nino, Alya’s husband, who was my first friend back in boot camp.”

Marinette smiled. “Was Nino a good soldier?”

Adrien barked a laugh. “Oh, God, no! He was the worst! But I had learned that there needed to be balance on a team. Nino was someone who could pull us all together. Even Chloe, who is not the nicest person to be around at times, liked him enough to be civil to him. That's the thing about Nino. He’s very easy to get along with. He was sometimes called the squad mascot. He could always make us laugh, keep us sane when situations got too difficult. He blames me for meeting Alya. I found her when I was visiting platoons for potential recruits. She spoke up and rudely corrected her Drill Sargent’s elbow angle on an Air-soft machine gun. She got latrine duty for a week. She told me later it was worth every hour scrubbing those toilets. I struck gold with her. She still is the best sharp-shooter I’ve ever known.

“As for Chloe… Felix recommended her. She was a petite thing, but had a right hook that could knock out a full grown man - trust me on that. It was always a running joke that, though she could kill you with her bare hands, she was also the one who knew the most about mind and body healing techniques. You wouldn’t think she’d be good at it with that quick temper of hers. That massage I did to your neck? That’s a technique Chloe taught me.”

Understanding dawned on her. “That’s what you did to Luka, too. You calmed him by pressing on his wrist.”

Adrien smiled with the memories. “It’s called Spirit Gate. It relieves nervousness and anxiety inside the mind and heart by manipulating blood flow. Anyway, with my mascot, my heavy-hitter, my sharp-shooter, my brother, and myself, I needed one more.” His face fell sad. “I was given Plagg by the government. Or maybe he chose me? He never really told me. Regardless, despite his lazy nature, he was an amazing friend and comrade. Funny thing, I never learned his true name. Plagg was his hacker alias. He worked a lot with me personally on missions. He loved cheese…”

Marinette smiled at the wistful look that had enveloped his expression.

“My team was sent on several missions outside the country. Most of the time we were used as a stake out squad. Gather information and relay it back to headquarters. The missions were simple, but we were ace, the best in the department. And eventually being ace gives you special privileges.”

“Like your suit?”

Adrien nodded. “I was granted the shadow, the Black Cat. Nino was the shield, the Turtle. We called him Carapace as a joke, but he actually liked the name. Alya was the eye, the Red Fox, but she wanted to be called Rena Rouge. She said it sounded sassier. Chloe was the stinger, Honey Bee, but she changed hers too because Alya did. Queen Bee suited her better anyway. Plagg refused a suit or a name - typical. And Felix... “ he swallowed, “he was given equipment specialist, the White Cat. He was my polar opposite. Where I was the shadow in the thick of battle, he was to avoid it. He was maintenance on our tools and weapons; a needed role, but not a glamorous one. It was once we got the suits... my brother got _difficult._  Argumentative. He would question my authority a bit too much. I think it was finally getting to him that I was so much younger than him and yet I’d grown so far above him. He wouldn’t be on the field if it wasn’t for me. And I was the leader.

“Felix grew worse with each mission. It was dangerous. Several times, there were close calls. He complained about my decisions, my plans, approached the others behind my back to change leadership.”

“I didn’t listen to you either,” she mumbled, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. Adrien stopped, watching as her shoulders fell dispiritedly.  

“You had a reason to be upset with me earlier. I should have recognized that you are a lot like me. You call the shots in your team - and technically this is your battlefield, not mine. I let my emotions get the better of me in the alleyway.”

“If I’d done what you said and not gone into the hotel, you wouldn’t be stuck in the floorboards of some random apartment with two gunshot wounds.”

“You found out about my- … about Hawkmoth.”

“We are cornered with enemies everywhere.”

He smiled with weight. “Do I need to pull out your picture again?”

She blushed and scowled. “That’s a cheap shot.”

“Only one I got.”

“Besides calling me beautiful,” she commented dryly.

It was his time to blush, his green eyes darting away from her face to stare at the ceiling. Watching him swallow and clear his throat, she barely caught the light, “I’m sorry”, that came from his lips.

“Sorry? Why?”

“I… I wasn’t quite myself. I shouldn’t have said that to you. Especially after what you said about Luka afterward and-”

“Adrien,” she called out softly and he finally looked at her. Her mouth was pressed in a line to keep the bubbling laughter in her chest. She finally snorted at his frown.

“What’s so funny?”

“Calm down. It’s okay. I told you about Luka because…” she hesitated wondering why she _did_ tell him. And then, “I guess I wanted to clear what that was. What he was to me. In a way, I needed to figure out my own feelings. Just talking about him out loud, it was hard, but in the long run, I needed to put into words something I’ve realized.”

“What’s that?”

Her stomach curled into a knot but she did it before she could chicken out. Marinette leaned down, turned his head with a finger, and kissed his cheek gently. His soft blond hair tickled the side of her face and his jaw had a bit of scruff on it. It was endearing - and strangely exciting. Sitting back up, his handsome face was frozen in a pleased surprise.

“What was that for?”

Cerulean eyes zipping to his bandaged arm shyly, she took a few breaths to settle the excited nerves wiggling in her stomach.

“You can say it’s a thank you.”

His lips turned cheeky with a sly grin. “Well, I should do whatever I did more often.”

“Saving my life was a very good start.”

The smile slipped off his lips so unexpectedly, she felt off-kiltered.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed. “I saved you, but I… I guess, in a way, I used you the way you used Luka.”

Marinette’s hands twisted together in her lap.

“What do you mean?”

His expression tightened. “At first, I saved you as a justification, a way to prove that I am not useless. Worthless. Some pathetic washed-up sap that simply crossed another day off the calendar. That I could still be who I was. Or at least a shadow of him, and make a difference in someone’s life. I’d had this feeling all day that something was going to happen. It was just like back on the field. I didn’t understand it until, suddenly, your picture was handed to me and it was like I was back. I was Chat Noir again. I had purpose and someone to save-”

“‘At first’,” she chimed in before pressing her lips together. Her eyes were glued to his bandaged arm.

He stopped, surprised. “What?”

“You said, ‘at first’,” Marinette whispered, the nerves twisting tightly inside. “But it’s changed, hasn’t it? _At first_ , it was justification, but now… it’s-it’s something else, right?”

“I-I, uh…”

Dashing her cool eyes to his flustered face, she decided to leave it. She was fishing. And being an idiot. And crossing into a territory that could easily backfire on her. Sure, Adrien was willing to take bullets to save her, but that didn’t mean he was actually… _interested… that_ way. And yes, he did say that she was beautiful, but he was also currently lying in a puddle of his own blood, so that didn’t count. And he had kept her picture, but… well, she didn’t really have a good excuse as to why he did that, but he was looking at her now with eyes that she couldn’t read and she was getting a bit hot underneath her leather jacket.

She didn’t notice his hand at her side move closer to her leg.

“Marinette, I-”

“Never mind, forget I said anything,” she interrupted, shaking her head. His fingers froze an inch from her knee. “Let’s go back to you. What happened next, Adrien? To your brother?”

He closed his eyes gently and took a deep breath.

“We finally got a mission for a search and terminate. The Opérations Spéciales discovered a spy within their lower ranks who was selling information to a terrorist organization near Iran. Before they could catch him, he snuck out of the country. Once we were on the mission, Plagg tracked his movements through the network, and he and Felix hacked the frequency wire in his trail of burner phones. With the wire bugged, we were on our way. We zeroed in on him within a span of a few weeks: a small shanty house in north Behbahan.”

“He was hiding there?” Marinette asked.

“I… I sensed it the moment I saw the shack. It was wrong. Everything about that place was wrong.” He was whispering the words, his green eyes once again lost in the throes of the past.

“What do you mean?”

Adrien hesitated. “I told the team that we should scan the wire again - one last time. Felix argued with me. Told me we’d been scanning the wire for weeks. Plagg was on his side. Alya and Chloe agreed, but Nino… he sided with me. Seeing our ‘shield’ was out, Chloe changed her mind, too; however, Alya agreed to scope from afar.”

He blew his fringe off his forehead and she could see the hard inner struggle of getting his words to surface.

“Keep in mind, this is severe violation of a superior’s direct orders on the field. This is insubordination at the highest caliber. Felix must have known he would have been dismissed, but he did it anyway. He and Plagg approached the shack, Felix in the lead.”

He took a shuddering breath. She barely heard his next words.

“The explosion. I can still feel it.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open in horror. “You… you don’t mean…”

Adrien turned his face away from her to the shadow of the cardboard boxes. “The shack was empty except for explosives that were rigged to go off as soon as a disturbance hit a ten meter perimeter. The wire tap - everything - it had been a set up. They were watching for us. Waiting for us to come after the spy. He was a plant to get rid of the ace team. And we fell right in the trap. It was a blessing Alya was so far away. She would have been dead, too.”

A burn of hard shame shot through her. Knowing the full story made the alleyway fight so much worse on her part. She understood his feelings now. Why he’d tried to hold her back from entering the Orphanage or the hotel. He’d been trying to keep her sorry ass alive to fulfill the heavy guilt he’d been carrying since his brother’s death. And she’d shoved her ignorance right in his face calling him _some guy at a bar_.

Gently. Ever so gently, she reached down and touched his fingers resting beside her. She didn’t want to disturb the wrapping, but she couldn’t help it. She both heard and felt his quick gasp. His eyes flipped back to her and his hand instantly moved to grab her fingers. He held her firmly, but kindly - a pressure that had more words than they could convey out loud.

“Marinette, don’t think this has anything to do with what happened between us. I didn’t tell you to upset you. This was a long time ago.”

“I understand why now.” Damn, her voice caught. The tightness in her throat was starting to hurt. Looking down at their fingers, which were beginning to lace together, the burn behind her eyes got the better of her and a tear slipped down her cheek.

“Why, what?”

“Why you tried to stop me. It seems like, though you say this was a long time ago, it is still so fresh for you.”

“You have lost a lot more than I have. Your grandmother and Fu. Your parents.”

Marinette sniffed back the tears that threatened to fall. “Loss is loss. Quantity doesn’t matter.”

His fingers tightened against hers and she glanced up to see the bite of frustration in his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked.

“This… sucks,” he replied with irritation.

“What does?”

His cheeks flushed and spread to his ears. “I’m usually not this forward, but… I-I wish I could hold you.”

A matching blush hit her as well. “You shouldn’t move.”

“I know.”

Glancing back down at their interlocked fingers, she let go of him to wipe her eyes with her palms. With a quick breath, she straightened her back with busy importance. Marinette gently moved his hand back to his side. She plucked up the comforter at his lower waist and tugged it higher on his bare chest. Taking the last two clean towels, she spread them beside him. He just watched her, a curious eyebrow quirked up. She straightened them over the floorboards - as close as she dared to his injured arm. Turning, she laid on back and stared out the trap door with him. His hand slid once more for hers and she laced their fingers again.

Much easier. Not comfortable, but she couldn’t help the rightness that settled in her as soon as she was beside him.

It was where she was meant to be.

“You’re not close enough.”

Marinette snorted through a bit of a stuffy nose, but a shiver of something almost wicked slipped down her spine as she remembered how his body had pressed against hers earlier. How the adrenaline, fear, and something deep and heavy had held her in its grasp. She’d never felt it before. This feeling still curling inside. Tightening and coiling, hot and wanting. Those abs as she wiped them with the towel, the way his blond hair was spread like a golden halo on the floor as she straddled him, his body, long and strong, between her legs-  

“Deal with it,” she said instead, her face blooming. “I can’t risk you opening your arm and shoulder up again just for a cuddle.”

“It’ll be worth it. Besides, cats like to cuddle.”

Turning her head to glance at his face, she frowned as she caught his cheeky eye, which she immediately thought was too cute for his own good. “You know you’re not a real cat, right? I find it important you know this.”

“Are you paw-sitive?” His thumb brushed the back of her hand. “I can kind of purr.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, seriously. Check it out.” A thick roll sounded from his lips and he gave her a wink.

A laugh burst from her and he stopped. “You’re just trilling with your tongue on the roof of your mouth.”

“I didn’t say it was purr-fect.”

“You really took that alter ego to a new level, didn’t you?”

His expression remained playful, but gained a bit of wistfulness. “We all kind of did. I know Alya keeps her hair like that because it reminds her of a red fox. Even Nino loves wearing caps because his suit had a deep hood on it.”  

Marinette gave his fingers a little squeeze. “So, what happened after the shack? What happened to everyone?”

He took a deep breath and all humor seemed to drain out of him.

“After the memorial service, I was dismissed from duty. I was deemed unfit. My teammates weren’t held accountable for the mission. Alya, Nino, and Chloe were allowed to stay on and join a new team if they wished - with minimum access and a downgrade, but Nino refused to. He said there was only man he’d follow into battle. He’s the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I knew Alya had a thing for him, so she ended up leaving service as well. Within months, Nino and Alya were getting married and settling in Paris. Chloe stayed with the government. Worked with another team. Eventually, she grew in rank. I lost contact with her, but I know Nino still talks to her from time to time.”

“And what about you?”

“I bounced around a few cities before I decided to head to Paris as well. The kidnappings had already happened by the time I showed back up here. Father was running for mayor and I knew I could have called on him, but…”

She caught the hesitance in his voice.

“It’s alright, Adrien.”

“A lot of lives could have been saved because of me, Marinette.”

The sentence held in the air.

Sitting up, she turned to him and caught his gaze.

“Then do something about it,” she demanded.

He blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Do something about it instead of dwelling in the past, super spy. You said it yourself you saved me to justify your mistakes. Bourgeois is dead. His right hand is gone. Hawkmoth lost a big asset. We know who he is. We could save Paris.”

His eyes grew thoughtful. “I’d rather we call in someone who can handle it. This is too big and too dangerous to take on by ourselves.”

She scoffed. “What, like Opérations Spéciales? We don’t have any proof that your father is Hawkmoth. Many people don’t even know there are Masters and akuma. Bourgeois was the only person who knew his true identity. The city loves your father, Adrien. He’s herald as ‘The Parisian Gentleman’. But the two of us? We can take him out. Together.”

Something suddenly flashed over his eyes and his long fingers squeezed hers.

“I just remembered something. I was watching the news yesterday afternoon in Nino’s bar. They were reporting about the motorcycle accident. The same one you caused. But there was something else - this reporter. She mentioned something about Father giving a public speech tomorrow.”

Marinette’s blue eyes tightened - but Adrien didn’t notice, struggling to remember.

“It was going to be in front of Le Louvre. At 2:00. He said he was going to put an end to the races once and for all.

She froze.

Then swallowed.

Then tried to keep her voice steady.

“He’s going to put an end to the races? Did he say how?”

“Not entirely sure,” the blond answered with a yawn, the late hour and whiskey finally hitting him. “But we can start there. Go together to stake it out or something.”

She didn’t answer, but he was too tired to notice. As Adrien slowly drifted to sleep, Marinette laid back down, his hand still laced in hers.

She knew exactly how Hawkmoth would end the races.

And it set her heart beating so fast it hurt in her chest.

He would detonate the collars.

He’d have every single akuma self destruct to destroy the evidence.

And that only meant Hawkmoth was starting over. Wiping the slate clean. There would be new kidnappings. New collars. Hell, who even knew if there would be collars anymore. Who knew how far his reach was? How advanced his tech had gotten…

There wouldn’t be anyone to help. Anyone to fight back except for her. The Orphanage was torn apart, her friends and family, dead or hunted. Marinette was all alone. Helpless to stop the process before it repeated itself.  

If what Bourgeois had said was true, once those legal papers were processed, there was nothing France could do to stop Hawkmoth. Mayor Gabriel Agreste would hold the power worthy of a city-state. Killing Bourgeois might have slowed that down, but if something wasn’t done now, all of her work as Ladybug would be for nothing.

She pressed her lips together, her blue eyes slipping to Adrien’s peaceful face. He said he’d kill his father for her, but… her stomach hitched at just the thought of it. She couldn’t do that. Not when he’d already experienced so much loss. Not when he’d risked so much for her already. He could barely move without tearing open his wounds - wounds he got protecting her. Adrien was too good to be caught up in this. He shouldn’t have to shoulder the burden of killing his own father.

Marinette, however, would happily pull that trigger.

It was at this moment, she felt as if the shadows to her left were thicker - deeper than normal. The hairs on her arm stood.

And she swore she heard Fu whisper in her ear:

 _One bullet to bring everything down._   


	14. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fox and Turtle join the race

Five hours.

The illuminated clock on his dashboard clicked eleven minutes past six.

The modest houses in the small neighborhood slowly brightened to lighter shades of blue, announcing the arrival of the beautiful morning to come. A small bird sang sweetly in a tree next to his passenger side window. Sitting in a black Venturi instead of the cop cruiser, Theo leaned his head against the rest, his amber eyes blinking in the clear morning. His body was relaxed. His heart thumped an even rhythm.

But he was no longer smiling.

A minute past five hours.

Reaching with long, lazy fingers, Theo gently typed his mini-computer’s password and logged in to the agency’s board. The familiar message lit up on the screen and he tilted his head with an almost thoughtful expression on his face.

He stared at the message, entranced. The screen flashed twice before disappearing with an auto-lock system. Placing the computer quietly on the seat next to him, the message’s words twirled before his eyes like the lyrics to a never-ending song.

“ _Information request pending. Standby for further instruction._ ”

The words danced and twisted together in his head until only two words remained in the dizzy spin.

The two words he despised the most in the world.

 _Pending… Standby…_  

 _Pending… Standby…_  

Five minutes past five hours… no, now it was six…

 _Pending… Standby…_  

The only other message he’d received was three hours ago informing him no sign had been found of either Blondie or the girl. Theo entertained himself briefly with the image of those men carving lines in their faces with a dull knife - and he felt a twitch of a familiar smile grace his lips. He could practically taste the terror they’d feel. The imagined shrieks of agony twirled with the words of his agency’s message:

 _Pending… Standby…_  

His amber eyes twitched to the digital clock. Nine minutes past five hours… the clock showed 6:20.

 _Pending… Standby…_  

His mind clicked back on the bar scene last night and his faint smile instantly vanished. A riptide of murderous heat boiled in his belly. He’d approached the small pub hoping for a quick in and out mission. Simple. Controlled.

But he had lost control. Theo’s entire mission was turning into one of the biggest failures to date. His target had gone missing for an embarrassing length of time with no hope of discovering her whereabouts and she had a man with her whose true background was still a mystery. A man who, despite being the Mayor’s estranged son, willingly stood in front of his target and dodged all of Theo’s efforts.

Did the agency actually blame him? Did they think he was inadequate because he failed to recognize the fraud at the bar? Was this his punishment? Waiting?

He gritted his teeth behind his lips and the muscles tensed on his arms. How dare they punish him! How dare they think they can ignore him!

 _Pending… Standby…_  

What if they send another assassin in his place? What if the target was taken out before Theo could find her? How could they do this to him?

He was top at the agency. No one ever questioned him.

No one ever tried to stop him but…

 _Pending… Standby…_  

Theo slipped his phone back into the holder on his belt and flicked his poisonous gaze to the quiet house on the other side of the street. It was a simple one story. Small rose bushes lined the side of a modest whitewashed porch that surrounded the front door. The small scarlet flowers contrasted so beautifully with the white. Like blood drops on snow.

He’d given his agency five hours.

He’s waited fifteen minutes over.

No new message

Nothing.

 _Pending… Standby…_  

Slowly, his lips curled into his comfortable pleasant grin. He flicked his thumb on the magazine to reload the ammo on his SMG.

* * *

   
Alya stifled a yawn as she flipped the bacon in the pan and watched Sophie scoot her kitchen chair closer to the table, her daughter’s dark hair full of bed head cowlicks, but her hazel eyes wide with interest. A red-headed man sat beside her and colored ferociously with a black crayon on a blank sheet of paper.

Sophie had woken at her usual crack of dawn to find Nathaniel sitting on the couch and watching cartoons on their television. After a brief introduction, which included her daughter hollering at the top of her lungs about a burglar in the house, the two of them had soon settled into a strangely comfortable silence in front of the television. The _My Little Ponies_ cartoon erased any of Sophie’s lingering distrust for their mysterious guest as a conversation about unicorns soon turned into debate.

Hence, the current breakfast time art fest.

“What color should I make the horn?”

Sophie thought for a moment. “How about rainbow?”

Nathaniel frowned over his beautiful drawing and slowly nodded. “Rainbow sounds good, but what about if we leave it white. A unicorn’s horn is usually white.”

“It’ll blend in with the panda’s fur.”

“That’s true,” Nathaniel smiled at Sophie and the girl grinned back. “Rainbow it is, then.”

“It looks so good! You are great at drawing, Nate.”

“You wanted a panda with a unicorn horn. Lucky for you that’s the best thing I can draw.”

“I don’t believe that at all! I bet you can draw anything with a horn on it.”

“Do you two want scrambled eggs with toast?” Alya called out.

“Yes, maman,” they both answered in unison. She stifled a bubbling laugh.

This was too precious.

Wrapping her navy bathrobe tighter, she traversed to the fridge to pluck out several eggs from the plastic carton all the while listening to the silly chatter of her daughter and her new best friend.

“Okay, so the name should be Pandicorn.”

Nathaniel laughed. “Sounds great.”

“Does he have special powers?”

“You mean besides being a panda with a horn?”

“Yeah, not all pandas have horns. It has to be special.”

The redhead tilted his chin to study his picture and his long locks fell over his bright eyes.

“Hmmm… what powers could it have?”

“What powers do unicorns have?” Sophie asked. “Maybe the Pandicorn can have some.”

Nathaniel lifted a hand to count on his fingers. “Let’s see… they heal everything they touch with their horns, their blood gives eternal life, they can run at fast speeds, and they are distant cousins to Pegasus.”

Alya snorted a laugh as she cracked the eggs in the still-hot frying pan and began to stir the broken yolks.

Sophie grabbed a red crayon and colored the tip of the horn. “What if, when the Pandicorn stabs someone with its horn, it turns them into a unicorn?”

Dropping his crayon, Nathaniel turned to her with a wide smile. “That sounds perfect! Like an generator of unicorns!”

“Yeah!” Sophie grinned happily and turned to Alya. “Maman, what does ‘generator’ mean?”

“It means you create something, baby. In this case, you generate loud noise so daddy can’t sleep.” A low voice came from the entryway and Alya looked up to see a bleary-eyed Nino yawning into the kitchen from the hallway. Tilting her head and smiling at her tired husband, she watched him rub his soft ginger eyes behind his round glasses. Nino’s hair was a tussled mess on his head, sticking up in all directions.

“Morning, you want eggs and toast as well?”

“Yes, maman,” he crossed the tile floor and poured a cup of coffee from the brewer.

“You sure you want caffeine? I can quiet them down and let you go back to sleep.”

“I’ll try to get another nap in before I open the pub later. Besides, our guest shouldn’t be here for too much longer, right?”

The tan woman bit her bottom lip. “Actually, Adrien never said how long Nathaniel will be staying with us. All he said was he had something to take care of at le Grand Paris Hotel and it had a whole lot to do with some guy named Hawkmoth and those motorcycle races that have been happening these past few years.”

Nino stopped mid-sip and gave her a pointed look. “Should have known that cat would involve himself in one of the biggest conspiracies of the decade and somehow drag us in with him. Dude wasn’t looking too well yesterday afternoon when I saw him. Kept on saying he had a bad feeling.”

“ _Now_ are you grateful I took those suits, Nino?” Alya smirked cheekily. He gave her a scowl with no heat behind it.

“I still think it’s a bad idea, babe. We don’t need ‘em. At least Adrien is leaving us out of the fighting this time-”

“Get down!” Nathaniel’s sharp yell caught her off guard and she saw him tackle Sophie to the floor. Less than a second later, he’d yanked on the large, rectangular, kitchen table with inhuman strength, and crashed it on its side; ducking behind it for cover. Her eyes widened as the old, yet horrifyingly familiar, crackling sound of bullets whistling through the air punched all around her. Nino’s strong hand grabbed her arm and wrenched her down behind the counter tops just as a bullet slammed into the frying pan in her hands, knocking it to the floor. With a quiet scream, her face pressed against Nino’s chest, his arms protectively covered her head.

Alya lifted her eyes to meet Nino’s wild ones. His body was taut like a tight string, trembling violently. Deep, irregular breaths of a panic attack gripped him. Unlike him, Alya’s blood was singing with the challenge. Standing up to life-threatening situations was something she’d thrived in. Four years ago, she’d taken on each new mission with a sense of overpowering confidence. Studying Nino for a half second, she had always known he was the soft-hearted one out of the two of them. He still had many nightmares from their days in the ace squad, some he’d shared with her - other’s he had not.

He was there now. Frozen. Deep in the memories that haunted his dreams.

Meanwhile, Alya’s mind was clearer than it had been in years. Sharp and ready with fury.

Her lips met Nino’s briefly before she wiggled out of his arms and pressed her back against the kitchen cabinets. Bare feet slipping in hot half-cooked eggs, she reached up to slide open the drawer next to the washing machine.

The cooking knives. She took four.

Alya’s sharp eyes calculated the direction of each slug as they pinged over her head. Weighing the makeshift weapons in her palm, she estimated the blade versus handle weight and, within seconds, knew where to aim and how hard to throw. She backed away from the safety of the kitchen counter and crouched low to the floor. Nino was watching her in the midst of his shaking. His long arms were wrapped around his torso.

She shot him one of her old confident smiles from back in the day and she saw his frosted eyes thaw a bit.

She was the Alya from four years ago. The mother and wife she’d become disappeared from her mind.

Jumping instantly to her feet, Alya rapidly hurled two knives towards the gunman and ducked once more behind the counter. She had barely seen the man’s body or position and had thrown them on instinct, A satisfying scream of pain answered her attacked followed by shouted obscenities. The bullets stopped and a loud clunking noise battered on the floor. She heard shuffling footsteps crunching rapidly on the ruined kitchen tile. A loud cry from a familiar voice made her heart seize in fright.

“Come out, you bitch, or the girl gets it!”

“Sophie, no!” Nathaniel’s voice was full of tears. Alya stretched to look over the counter. A man, with his dark hair pulled back in a bun, was standing shakily next to the kitchen table that laid on its side. Blood ran down the right side of his chest and looked sickeningly bright against his white t-shirt. Sophie’s head was pressed against the man’s waist, her throat exposed to a bloody knife grasped in the man’s shaking fingers.

Holding two more knives tensely at her side, she slowly stood.

“Drop the knives.”

She didn’t move.

He pressed the blade tighter to Sophie’s tender flesh. The girl let out a whimper of pain. “I said, ‘drop the knives’!”

She dropped them from her hand and they clattered loudly to the floor. Her brain was in a standstill. Her baby’s beautiful face cried to her.

Just like that, she was snapped back to her current self. The mother and wife.

Finally caught in her own personal nightmare, her confidence was shot to hell.

“Don’t move! Don’t even think about moving! Tell me what you know about Adrien Agreste!” The gasping man practically spat the words in his rage. “Tell me who he is! What is he planning next!? You know him, right? So, where is he!?”

Her eyes filling themselves with her captive child, she opened her mouth but couldn’t speak.

“I’m waiting, you bitch! If you don’t start answering my questions by the count of ten, I’ll slit her throat, you understand me?” His shaking knife pricked the side of Sophie’s neck and a small weep of blood ran into the little girl’s pajamas. Tears streamed down her eyes and she let out a tight sob.

“Maman…”

“P-Ple-Please…” her voice shook so horribly the words sounded like gibberish.

“You know where he is right now, don’t you!? Tell me where he is! Tell me where he is hiding that piece of shit Ladybug!”

“I-I-I don’t-”

The man’s eyes lowered and she saw - despite the heavy breathing from his wound - his lips were starting to curl into a small smile.

“One… two…”

“ _Wait!_ I-I-I’ll tell y-you! Adrien is… H-He’s a…”

“Five… six…” The man’s face was transforming. His amber eyes glinted happily at her.

“Adrien was part of the government!” she shouted shrilly, finally finding her voice. “He used to be an agent! Please, let her go!”

“Keep talking. Seven…”

“Why are you counting!” Hot tears ran down her face as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m tell you!”

“I said keep talking about AGRESTE! EIGHT!”

“We were all part of a small special divisions group in Commandement des Opérations Spéciales! We got out four years ago! He’s no longer part of the government! He told me he discovered the plot to kill Ladybug through a mistake! A fluke! Someone handed him her picture last night!”

“I know all of this! You’re tell me what I want to _know!_ NINE!”

“Oh, God, please! I don’t know any-”

Her ears caught the sharp _pang_ before she could register what had happened. The man’s amber eyes rolled backwards and he dropped the knife before crumbling unconscious onto the dirty floor.

Standing behind him was Nino. His eyes clear and strong.

A frying pan with bits of crusted egg on the bottom was gripped in his hands.


	15. Gabriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Butterfly plots and Fox and Turtle investigate

Kind, light blue eyes gleamed out from behind the black framed glasses of Gabriel Agreste as he stepped out of his glamorous upstate mansion and strolled the crisp sidewalk where the sleek black lamborghini idled in the street. With a charming curve on his lip, he nodded at the pixie cut, raven-haired akuma standing next to the vehicle and she opened the door for him. Sliding in like a snake, the woman followed him in - an electronic pad in her hands. She sat opposite of him, her beautiful gaze vacant. A soft navy scarf covered her thin neck and shoulders, hiding the leather collar underneath.

A male akuma, as large as a gorilla, gently pressed the gas and started down the busy streets of Paris.  

The female akuma’s eyes dipped to the screen in her hands. “Call from Private Line, Monsieur Agreste. Shall I patch it through with the code?”

“Please,” Gabriel acknowledged.

A small beep came from the system of the car and she announced, “Code confirms the call is from headquarters.”

A slice of irritation cut down his spine. “Put it through.”

She paused only for a moment before pushing a small answer button and holding the screen for him to see. A long, swarthy face with wide brown eyes appeared.

“Xavier Ramier,” Gabriel said softly and the man visibly twitched.  

“M-Monsieur Agreste. An update on the… current situation. The agency failed to locate Ladybug. She was last seen roughly six and a half hours ago. Good news: the _janitors_ have assured me the bodies of Master 60 as well as his associates have been dealt with accordingly.”

Gabriel let a small disapproving frown crease between his eyebrows. “What are they doing to find her? This is supposed to be the top agency, Ramier. The best of the best.”

“They have had scouts searching a full kilometer wide around the hotel-”

“I find it obvious that if she hasn’t been found for _six hours_ , then it stands to reason she is no longer near the hotel, right?”

Ramier’s face grew even more pale. “The agency has assured me they are doing everything they can to-”

“I don’t care about assurances,” Gabriel raised a hand and waved it in the air - dismissing the excuse. “They can say anything they want, but the bottom line is: they let her escape. They had one job and they fucked it up.”

“T-They have an idea of where she might be headed. The assassin in charge of termination found where Ladybug has been stashing the akuma taken from the races. I shall send the location to your device. The agency is willing to terminate the akuma for a reduced price. The paperwork has already been filled and is simply pending your approval.”

His eyebrows rose a fraction. “I see. Well, that’s good news. They lose my initial target, manage to get Bourgeois dead, and are willing to discount me for my trouble.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I’d like to know where my one-hundred thousand euros went if they are playing with the topic of discount prices.”

“What should I tell them, sir?”

Still chuckling under his breath, he leaned against the seat and smiled. “By all means, let them finally do something right for once.”

There was a pause in which Ramier’s eyes twitched to another screen and he nodded. “I have confirmed it, sir. They will begin tracking the escaped akuma within the hour. I’ll send you the verification of termination as soon as they contact me again.”

“Driver,” Gabriel addressed the large akuma, who slowly shifted his eyes to the rear-view mirror to look at him. “Take me to a busy coffee shop. I suddenly feel like making a public appearance before my speech. Shaking some hands, kissing some babies.”

Ramier’s wide eyes grew wider. “Monsieur Agreste, if you don’t mind me saying so, it might not be wise to give this speech today. It was confirmed that Ladybug killed Bourgeois. There is a high possibility she may know who you really are. You will be in danger out in the open.”

Gabriel smiled at the screen, his thin lips spreading gently. “Oh, I’m counting on her being there.”

“Sir?”

“I have plenty of security measures in place at Le Louvre. Understand, I will be unharmed no matter what she tries to do.” Gabriel’s smile grew wider. “I am looking forward to finally meeting my greatest adversary face to face - even if she’s in a body-bag. I have had numerous requests for her to be an akuma. Kill her publicly or enslave her as the newest akuma - it’s an automatic win for me. If she does die, she’ll go out in a blaze of a publicized assassination attempt. If not, she will be under my control - body and soul. And, not only that, with the amount of men stationed outside the museum, I can further showcase the Parisian Police Department’s strength to the people of Paris. Hidden civilian cops all around my podium. Snipers lining the rooftops. I’m a little sad how easy this will all be.”

“Are you wanting me to prep the detonator as well?”

Gabriel’s blue eyes flicked to the beautiful woman in front of him before resting on the collar hidden behind the scarf. Her eyes were glassy, but he noticed a twitch on her brow.

“No need to rush things. Make obtaining the paperwork that Bourgeois left off your top priority, Ramier. I want it ready after the speech today. Oh, and get the Commissioner in on the plans. Tell him Hawkmoth is about to play his biggest move yet.”

“Yes, Monsieur Agreste.”  
  


* * *

  
A small light flickered in his mind and it responded with a wave of sharp pain. The darkness crept over the light, but it bravely battled for consciousness. A voice snaked through his blank thoughts, waking him a little more.

“Seems he’s finally coming to.”

“About damn time.”

The growing awareness also increased the pounding on the back of his head. Pain bloomed in his shoulder as he shifted his back. Amber eyes snapping open, images of a destroyed kitchen flooded his mind. An airborne knife that had flipped perfectly to embed itself in his lower shoulder, forcing him to drop his SMG.

Theo let out a groan as a surge of unexpected vertigo twisted his stomach. Clenching his eyes against the imaginary roller coaster he was riding, he noticed another dull twinge of pain on his wrists. Swallowing down the rising bile in his throat, he cracked an eye open once more.

“Hello, cutie.” Theo tried to focus on a spinning image of an auburn-haired woman leaning towards his face. “Good to have you back. I’ve been waiting for this.”

“How’s the head?” A deeply amused voice came from a tan skinned man leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He nodded as he caught Theo’s eyes, his red cap casting the top part of his face in shadow. Theo flicked his gaze around, noting the shoe rack and unmarked boxes on the right. The back of his head brushed against several colored coats. With a tight gasp, he tried to move his arms and legs, realizing suddenly he was tied to a small kitchen chair. The light, a tiny bulb attached to the ceiling, glowed a brilliant pale yellow. Immediately feeling the back of his teeth with his tongue, he sighed at the hole in his gums.

They’d taken his cyanide pill.

He focused again on the woman in front of him and forced a smile through his dizziness.

“You caught me,” he said pleasantly with a groan.

“And I’m going to kill you,” the woman said with a dangerous spark in her eye. A knife whisked to Theo’s throat and he felt the blade prick his neck slightly. Despite the pain that shot from his shoulder and head, his heart thumped hard in his chest - not with fear - but with a taste of pleasure.

He could see it. The wildness inside of her.

She was a monster. Just like him.

“You threatened my daughter, you son of a bitch,” she pressed the blade.

“Babe…” the man behind her sighed, “not before we get some answers from him, remember?”

He saw her dark ginger eyes narrow behind her thin framed glasses before she gave a short huff and pulled the knife away. She shot the capped man a scowl over her shoulder - it was obvious they’d had an argument about this subject right before he’d woken up. Theo smirked and pulled on his tightly bounded wrists. They were professionally laced with a handcuff knot. His shoes had been removed and both legs were strapped together tightly. He noticed the rope was securely wrapped around his torso and traveled down to his knees, binding him fully to the chair. His smile widened considerably.

“Guess you want me around a little longer then. Too bad I’m not very good at answering questions.”

“Well, you see, here’s the thing, dude,” the man straightened up from the doorway and bent down to fiddle with an open bag sitting on the threshold of the closet. A kick of something familiar shivered down Theo’s spine, but he brushed it away. His duffel bag. The spectacled man pulled out a small bottle with a lopsided grin.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be one for carrying sodium thiopental. Looks pretty gnarly.” He raised the bottle closer to his eyes as if inspecting it and shook it lightly. “Mixing ethanol into it could have some interesting results. A lot of truth serums I’m familiar with are in pill form. To have a liquid... “

Theo wanted to laugh. If that bastard unscrewed the lid without a mask, they’d all be under. Pity. His amber eyes flicked to the lovely fiery woman standing beside him. She would have been fun to play with. He could still feel the thrilling high of seeing her desperate tears from earlier.

“Didn’t the Opérations Spéciales have that program that was trying to adapt a quicker method into their truth serums while we were still in it, babe?”

The beautiful woman just smiled in reply.

“They were trying to create a type of fast acting serum. Something that would be easier than forcing a pill down someone’s throat,” the man continued.

“Seems like they might have finished the product,” she smiled down at Theo.

The smile slipped from his lips. The craving to carve her flesh faded. He felt his shoulders shaking, his hands trembling. His body was instantly cold and clammy. His breathing became heavier.

Theo swallowed and hated the gulping sound it made.

It sounded so much like weakness.

The man just laughed at him, his ginger eyes gleaming under his cap. “Wanna know what gave it away? I found this helpful gas mask in your bag. I bet when I let you take a good whiff of this, you’ll tell me everything I want to know, including how you got this solution from the Commandement des Opérations Spéciales. Even if you try, you won’t be able to help yourself. Dude, babe, I’m actually excited to try it out.”

“We found this fancy computer in your pocket,” the woman continued, her words holding the taste of a sharp bite. Pulling out his agent computer, she held it in front of his face with delicate fingertips. “You got a new message three minutes ago. Darling, why don’t you hold on to it and maybe this fucker will be so kind as to give you the password?”

“It would be my pleasure, babe. Now, if you wouldn’t mind taking the boys outside for a bit, This dude and I have some catching up to do.”

She grinned, her lips stretching with a burning rage. Theo could practically see the waves of her killing aura, the wash of her clenching his stomach and making him sweat. As she straightened up, his breath left with a rush of relief against his will.

“Oh, one more thing, could you hand me the old phone before you go. I think it’s time to contact Queen. Let her hear this with her own ears.”

The scary tanned woman nodded and left out of the doorway.

Theo’s heart was sick, his throat burned, his stomach turned. He was done. No cyanide. No way out. He struggled one more time against the bindings, knowing nothing would help.

_Pending… Standby…_

_Pending… Standby…_

Why? Why did they make him wait? This wasn’t his fault! The agency made him stop the hunt! They should have let him keep going! The capped man leaned back on the doorframe once more and watched, his ginger eyes flickering with excitement.

Theo couldn’t smile… he couldn’t…

It was too fast… too soon, the woman came back with a thick black phone that looked several years old. Her gaze flicked back to Theo and he flinched.

She was a monster.

“Here you go. Have fun.” One more taste of her raging aura and she shut the door behind her - leaving him alone with the man.

He turned to Theo with a lovesick smile on his tan face. “God, dude, tell me you felt that. She hasn’t been like this in years. All riled up. She’s so damn sexy, it’s scary,” he ended with a sigh before clapping his hand on his thigh. “Whelp, on to business, right?”

Strapped to the chair, he pulled uselessly on his bindings with a small cry erupting from his throat. This only seemed to make the man happier. He loomed now, over Theo’s head like a towering giant. The image kept shifting, swaying, altering from past to present. From his childhood boogieman to this smiling man who was currently pulling on the mask. His mask.

Theo finally realized what was making his hands and shoulders shake, his heart throb horribly, his body grow cold. It was the emotion he’d cut from his mind so long ago. It was the emotion he drank from his targets.

And now, as the bottle was carefully unscrewed in the small closet - Theo felt it most acutely.

_Fear._


	16. Parted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug makes a decision

The first thing to break through her oblivion was the smell. It didn’t hold the soothing aroma of her vanilla-scented candle she always lit by her bedside in her small apartment. It had more of a strange iron twinge. Like Wayzz’s hospital room in the Orphanage.

Like… blood.

Frowning with her eyes closed, she realized her right hand was clasped loosely, warm fingers laced lazily between hers. Her left arm felt numb like she’d slept on it weird. Typical. She was always doing that. Shifting a leg to change the position, she kicked a strange object that made a loud thud on the floor. It sounded like a box.

Wait. The floor.

She was on the floor.

Cerulean eyes snapping open, Marinette immediately sat up with a gasp and banged her head against the floorboards above her. The top of her shoulders cricked and she hissed at both the pain in her neck and on her forehead. Reaching up to rub both spots, she heard a groan as her hand left the grasp of -

She gasped at the shirtless man lying beside her before the memories came flooding back to her brain.

The assassin! The Hotel! Hawkmoth! She had to call Fu! A sharp twist of pain shot through her as an image of Fu’s crumbled body washed over her. Grandma… Fu… The Orphanage… That’s right. Nathaniel was with Adrien’s friends.

_Adrien…_

She glanced back to the man beside her. His long golden locks were spilling around his head, his chest rising slowly with each deep breath. His right hand resting on his flat stomach, his left was wrapped in a brilliant yellow towel. His face was relaxed, his black mask perching on his forehead and nose. His cat ears had somewhat fallen to the back of his head, but she could see the bud in his real ears through his hair. Gently, ever so gently, Marinette scooted towards him on her knees and her trembling fingertips brushed his soft locks from the side of his handsomely peaceful face. She held her breath as she quickly took out the buds - disconnecting the amplified cat ears.

Marinette sat back slowly. He remained fast asleep; whiskey, blood-loss, and fatigue aiding her. She was surprised she’d fallen asleep as well - her own exhaustion having gotten the better of her.

But she was wide awake now.

And she had something she needed to do.

Marinette shivered, her hands growing cold.

_Hawkmoth… 2:00… Le Louvre…_

Fixing her eyes on his bandaged arm, she tried to calm herself down. This was what she had to do. Adrien… he was in no shape to come with her even if she wanted him to. He needed proper medical care. She’d done her best, but he was weak. At risk for infection. There was no way he would survive. Not something like this.

“This is my only chance to take out Hawkmoth. He has to be stopped,” she whispered to his comatose face. “You’d probably forbid me to leave this hole in the floor. You’d want to protect me - jump in front of all the bullets aimed at me, but you don’t understand, Adrien. I can’t let you kill your own father. I can’t let you die. This is my destiny.”

If it was her destiny, why did it sound so much like an excuse? Marinette brushed that thought aside and lifted a cold hand to ghost the back of her fingers slowly over his strong jawline.

He didn’t stir.

With an almost defeated sigh, she shifted closer to his warm body and leaned in to study his face. She followed the shape of his eyes, hidden behind the ebony mask. He had long eyelashes, curling at the tips. His lips, a light pink, were slightly chapped, but still perfectly shaped. She raised her hand once more and placed it on his chest over his heart. It beat slow and steady. The heat of his skin immediately warmed her fingers. Tucking her knees closer to his side, she felt instantly safe.

“Tikki was right - that little brat,” she smiled despite herself. “I can’t believe you actually exist. My _hero_ … And you’re actually a cat. What is up with that? You and your puns and cat ears. You even have a tail. I had written you off a long time ago. I had even thought maybe my hero would be Luka when I finally saved him, but Tikki insisted he’d have green eyes - _glowing_ green eyes.” A burn appeared in her throat and shook her voice. “And here you are. Glowing eyes and all.”

A tear spilled down her cheek.

Moving her hand from his chest to cradle the side of his face, he didn’t react to her touch, but kept on breathing evenly in his sleep. She felt a tight coiling inside. A bold want increasing her bravery. She ran a thumb gently to his lips. He exhaled deeply and she felt the warmth of his breath on her hand.

“Why did you have to be real? Why couldn’t you have stayed a simple recurring dream Tikki had? Why did you have to be so handsome and kind and compassionate and brave and stupidly flirty with me? Why did you have to be so damn perfect? Why did you come for me? Why did your father have to be Hawkmoth? Why did you tell me your story and show me how lonely you’ve been? How you’ve held this guilt inside for so long? I’m just going to make it worse, aren’t I? I’m going to hurt you so badly by leaving you here.”

She trailed off as more tears spilled down her blue eyes. Several dripped on his chest.

“God, this is going to be suicide. I’m going to die today. But I have to try. I can’t have you in danger anymore, Adrien, because you don’t deserve this burden. But…” a sob caught in her throat and she took a few seconds to settle her breathing, “I’m going to regret what I have to do. I don’t want you to be alone anymore. I don’t want to hurt you. I…” the words escaped thicker and tight, “I don’t want to leave you!”

The coiled heat swirled. And she knew what it was.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered thickly, leaning forward to press her forehead against his chest. “Please don’t come after me. Please don’t get hurt anymore for me. It’s time I do this on my own. You’ve done enough. You’ve been a hero long enough. Please… please choose to walk away when you finally wake up. Walk away and forget everything that has happened. Hopefully, by the time you _do_ wake up, everything will be over. For Hawkmoth… and me…”

Lifting her head, the courage pulled her closer and she leaned over his face. Her raven fringe draped on his forehead, her nose brushed an inch closer to his. A tear slipped from her eye and dripped down his cheek. Glancing at his slightly parted lips, she closed the gap, pressing her trembling mouth against his. Her hand slid up to hold the side of his face, his soft hair falling over her fingertips.

His lips never moved, but he made a small noise. Her heart pounding wildly in her chest, she instantly sat back and wiped at her cheeks. A white-hot longing shot down her spine.

Her eyes drying, she stared hard at his peaceful expression.

Not even a flutter of an eyelash.

A resolution drifted in. At least she’d kissed him and made a good memory. One last good memory to file away before the end. She had never kissed anyone before. It wasn’t what she’d imagined - considering Adrien wasn’t even awake for it, but… she couldn’t help wonder if he was awake - would he kiss her back? Would he grab her and brush those gentle fingers down her spine? Lie her down and press himself against her? Carefully remove her leather jacket and crop top with those green eyes filled with warmth and want and-

“I’m walking to my death, so I want to let you know something, Adrien.” It was strange how steady her voice was now. So strong and confident. Not a hint of her earlier grieving. “This is sudden. But I don’t have any time left. I have never felt anything like the way I feel for you. I’m still not sure what all this means, but I have a good guess that this is _love_.” She snorted with an incredulous shake of her head. “Oh, my God, I’m in love with you. And I barely know you. But… it’s true. I love you, Adrien.”

The confession hung in the air and was swallowed in the silence that followed it. It cleared her mind, settled a determination on her shoulders. Without another word, Marinette hurriedly leaned over him to reach for his other side and spied the gun’s handle poking out of his belt. She grabbed it fast, hoping the quick moment wouldn’t disturb him.

She was lucky. He slept on.

Ejecting the magazine, she saw four bullets in the clip.

Every shot counted.

Plugging the magazine back in the pistol, she smiled warmly at him. “We are both idiots, Adrien. Maybe that’s why I’m so attracted to you. That, and you look pretty great without your shirt on.” Leaning forward one more time with a touch of bravery, she gave him one more peck on the lips. Sitting back up, her eyes flicked to his front pocket zipper.

Her picture.

It felt cruel to take it from him, but then, leaving him here alone was crueler. Easing the zipper open, she reached in and slipped the picture out. It was a tad wrinkled now, the corners bent. His bloody shoulder wound hadn’t gone through the leather to ruin it. Marinette looked at her wistful face staring off in the distance, a wind tossing her pigtails. It really was of that night - right as her phone had gone off with Fu’s call.  

She looked back at him and felt like she needed to say it: “I’m sorry.”

Marinette felt him twitch beside her.

It was now or never.

Maneuvering out of the trap door, she gave him one last memorizing look before shutting the hatch back into place with a quiet snap.

* * *

  
The people at the coffee house crowded around him like dogs to their master. Gabriel gave his best gentlemanly grin as he touched hands with men and women. The rumble of happy voices, the waves of fingers reaching for him, the obvious love for him that shined through their faces. Several young children that had been playing in a small park next to the café pushed their way to the front of the masses and one tugged on his pant’s leg.

“Hello there, little one,” he said warmly, reaching down to ruffle the kid’s hair. The little boy, his locks a tangle of silky black curls, smiled shyly up at him. Gabriel stopped and crouched in front of the child.

“Do you know who I am, son?”

The boy nodded. “You’re The Parisian Gentleman.”

The name rang with pleasure down his spine. “Precisely. Would you like to work for me someday?”

The child blinked and glanced up at the large gorilla akuma standing over Gabriel like a shield of flesh.

“You mean like him?”

Gabriel followed the boy’s gaze. “Exactly like him,” he placed a hand on the child’s thin shoulder, “he’s cool, isn’t he?”

The boy’s mouth fell open in awe. With a slight nod, he whispered, “he looks like a superhero.”

“You’ll grow up to be a strong young man someday. You’ll defend the city just like he does. I’ll need people like you to help me keep Paris safe. Just like a superhero.”

The child’s thin face stretched into a wide toothy smile. “I will! I will, Monsieur Gentleman!”

Gabriel laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair once more. “Please, call me Mayor Agreste.”

“Mayor Agreste! Mayor Agreste, a moment please!” A pretty female reporter pushed her way into the delighted masses surrounding him. He smiled brightly at the young boy and straightened up. The woman waved a microphone in her hand and Gabriel nodded to the akuma to let her through. As the giant stepped aside, she stretched her microphone to catch his voice.

“Nadja Chamack reporting. The rumors of your speech today have been taking the news media by storm. You made quite a harsh statement yesterday against the individuals responsible for the motorcycle races. What could you possibly have planned to help us with that?”

“My dear Nadja, that is for you to find out in about two hours,” Gabriel said courteously. “I want to go ahead and tell you that I am all for encouraging the VOP to vote after I am finished with my speech. In fact, I’m hoping they will convene with me later this afternoon.”

His blue eyes studied her. She really was quite stunning. He made a mental note for later.

“Many Parisians think bringing in Commandement des Opérations Spéciales in the investigations would help get to the bottom of this mystery. Why are you so against it?”

“I want the people of Paris to know that the Parisian Police Department has their back. Paris can and will protect Paris. The police are here for you. It has been recently let known that there are spies and moles within the Commandement des Opérations Spéciales. Letting them take over this would allow them to take back the unstable control they lost four years ago. They will take away the power of the people.”

“You mean the power of the police-”

“Nadja, please, go get yourself a latte. On me. I insist.”

With that dismissal, Gabriel turned his back on the pesky reporter and allowed himself to be swept away by the adoring crowd. One woman lifted a little girl on her shoulders and he waved to them both from the throng. The woman blushed and the pretty child gave him a toothy grin. All around him faces smiled and cheered his name.

This was his hard earned paradise.

This was being Hawkmoth.

* * *

  
Holding the gun steady to her chest with one hand, Marinette tried to straighten the thin straps of the pink polka-dotted tank top she’d found in the apartment. Leaving her blood-stained jacket and crop top behind, she’d washed as much as Adrien’s blood off of her as she could in the tiny bathroom. She wanted to blend once she hit the Paris streets, and walking around with blood streaks on her arms and chest would probably be counterproductive. Unfortunately, despite Marinette already being fairly petite in size, it seemed the woman living the apartment rivaled Rose's figure.

Oh well, Marinette sighed, glancing at her clashing red leather pants and tiny shirt. She was already used to showing some skin now and then. The top really cut her chest hard though.

Squaring her shoulders, she took the last step on the bottom of the dark stairwell. Marinette remembered from last night how they had placed a guard outside the apartment complex. The gun felt a bit heavier in her hands as she crept closer to the entrance. Yep. There he was. A solid wall of muscle just waiting for her. Would shooting the guard be worth it? She might cause too much attention outside if she did.

She needed to conserve her bullets for Hawkmoth, too.

A sudden memory flashed into her mind. Adrien had said that buildings over sixty meters had to have a certain number of exits. This one, though a lot smaller than the hotel, probably had a back exit somewhere.

Well, time to bring out the inner ninja.

Watching him yawn and roll his neck, she checked the busy Parisian streets. Cars were zipping by, pedestrians crossing, laughing, shopping. She could blend in - even with her tight pink tank top. Would he see her leaving around the corner? Would he recognize her?

Leaving the door, she made her way to the back of the building. Sure enough, a minute of silently opening doors, she saw the red exit sign with a bolt of relief.

“Okay, Marinette, you can do this,” she murmured. “Just act like you know what you’re doing. You’re good at blending in. I mean, you’ve done it enough with the akuma and racing. Same thing, right?”

Opening the exit, she stepped out into the smelly back alleyway and swiftly turned the corner. She looked up immediately to see the balcony that had saved their lives. Despite wishing he’d just forget about her, she couldn’t help the soft smile at the green leaves of the various potted plants littering the balcony. Adrien had held her hand so tightly while they hung on the drain pipe. He hadn’t wanted to let her go, but she’d made him. Just like now.

“Adrien... à Dieu,” she whispered and her heart thumped tightly in her chest. Screwing on a calm expression she didn’t feel inside, she boldly strolled out of the alleyway and instantly turned right to avoid crossing the guard’s path. She waited for the warning shout. She waited for the bullet in her back. She waited and kept walking. No one looked at her.

She blended in.

Her fear didn’t stop until she rounded the corner of the street. Then she allowed herself a small victory smile.

Now to Hawkmoth.


	17. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which dead rises and Black Cat loses his good luck

His mind was a blur of both past and future. The pain in his shoulder and head dulled to a small ache. At one moment, he was a child looking up from the dirty ground. He cried at the feet of a man he’d always tried to please. A man who never cared, who never loved. As a child, Theo had learned to smile, even though he didn’t feel like it. Despite all the pain, he smiled. Maybe then his father would be pleased with him. Maybe his father would even love him.

Other times, he was old and weak, strapped to his wheelchair and decrepit. The figure was his god of death, waiting judgement and payment. His dark wings spread wide; trying to swallow him whole. The fangs itching for his exposed, wrinkled throat. Theo couldn’t move. He could hardly breathe. The sweet musty scent of his father’s cologne wafted around him - a smell he hadn’t realized he remembered so well.

He didn’t know what he said. He just spoke, words tumbling out of his mouth like a spout of water. He said everything. Anything it wanted. All information freely plucked from his lips.

What seemed like an eternity was suddenly over. The death god, his father, opened the door, turned off the light, and shut it. Theo was left alone. All alone in the darkness. Faintly, he became aware of the pain in his joints, the skin around his wrists rubbing raw. His head swirled with images of dark. The coats behind him were hundreds of hands. Ones that wanted him like the demon. The death god had left him in the hands of spirits. He wanted to scream, but couldn't. He wanted to claw the hands away, but now his arms were being held by strong fingers. Amber eyes twisting wildly, an old woman’s face, her gray hair matted with blood, suddenly emerged over his shoulder. She blinked at him with one eye, the other half of her face was missing.

Another pair of fingers appeared from the darkness to his right - a thumb was cut off. A lovely face came forth and he knew her: the woman from the building in the forest. The one he’d tortured. Her frosted eyes smiled at him; her lips stretching into an unnaturally wide grin. Teeth clenched, her thin hands latched to the sides of his face. Her missing thumb left a wet smear on his cheek.

With a strangled cry, Theo twisted his wrists and fought against them. They wouldn’t get him. They couldn't catch him. He wasn’t going to go. Evil spirits, angels, death gods, they can all try to take him, but he would never be caught.

He felt the fingers of the young woman digging harder into his jaw, her unblinking eyes gleamed with predatory madness. Her face was crooked now. The raise of her lips transformed into something hungry. There was a shining anticipation.

Screaming, Theo ripped his bleeding wrists as the fingers finally broke their hold on him. Shielding himself from the spirits, he quickly untangled from the bangle of arms that held him to his chair. He felt them back away into the shadows. Falling forward off the chair, he hit the door and it bounced open. He sprawled on the carpet floor with grunts of pain and panic. His head swam, his body howled with fear. Turning, he saw the spirits watching him from the closet, their eyes glowing white. There were so many of them, their hands itching to drag him back.

Theo gasped as one spirit reached out and pinned his feet together. The ghost was a short old man, no taller than the chair Theo had been pinned to. He wasn’t smiling like the woman. His face was twisted, his thin eyes glowing red.

And he was impossibly strong.

Theo watched as blood pooled from his small body, red liquid dripping out of his mouth and into his thin beard. Where his hands touched him, a cold crept through Theo’s pants and into his skin. Slowly, the man began to pull Theo back to the closet. Back to where the hands awaited him.

“You won’t have her… You’ll never take her…” the old man whispered as his head flicked slightly to the left. He yanked on Theo and the other ghosts raised their arms out of the doorway - wanting him, needing him.

“I won’t let you have her…”

“No… No, I won’t… I won’t get her!” Theo whimpered, “Please, I promise! I won’t!”

“It’s too late. God has judged you…” the voice of the young woman came out. It was as soothing as daggers slicing his ears.

“We’ve come to take you…” the gray-haired woman murmured in a trill Italian accent.

“You’ll never have her… I won’t let you take her…” the old man chanted, pulling Theo even closer. He screamed and kicked, but he couldn’t escape. “She has a destiny. You shall not interfere.”

“You shall not interfere,” the young woman repeated.

“You shall not interfere,” the old woman snarled.

“NO!” Theo shrieked and fought at the old man’s hands. Leaning forward, his bloody fingers clawed, scrapped on the back of the dead man’s wrists. Screaming, he felt the hands slowly releasing their grip on him. He kicked and squirmed and wiggled. One by one, the fingers weakened.

At last, he fell away and Theo crawled quickly until his head hit a lamp stand on the other side of the wall. It fell and broke. His amber eyes watched the old man’s thin body slowly sink back into the shadows of the closet. They were standing there watching now. Eyes white, dazed with death and hunger.

“Come with us. You will meet a bad end either way,” the young woman called.

“Like hell! S-Stay away from me!” He bellowed back, his hands clutching for the fallen lamp.

The dark spirits were slowly fading. Theo’s breath was coming in short gasps. A desperate relief washed over him and he collapsed on his side. Dropping the lamp, his arms wrapped around his body protectively.

One by one, the white eyes disappeared - showing only coats inside a closet. The young woman with her terrible smile faded, the old man with his red eyes vanished - the last to go was the gray-haired woman. She leaned forward, her one eye rolling.

“I’ll be following you,” her promise ripped into him - though her words were quiet as vapor. “You may have escaped, but you’ll meet me again. I’ll be the one to take you away.”

Theo was shaking as she left. It was a long time before he pulled himself up and took several shaking steps. Opening the front door, the sun was too bright for him and he vomited in the rose bushes on the porch.

Straightening and wiping his mouth with a shaking hand, he felt his head clear.

And then he remembered: the truth serum. This is what it did to people.

What power.

What wonderful _power._

Still crying, Theo’s mouth twisted.

And he smiled.    
  


* * *

  
A small beam of light hit his left eye, causing the darkness to turn a blinding red. Adrien groaned at the strange pulsing headache that followed. Damn, he was thirsty. He was always this way after drinking. Breathing in deeply, a jolt of pain cricked his neck. He sat up slowly and his forehead collided painfully with the ceiling.

“Ow!”

Wait. The ceiling?

Where was he?

Green eyes snapping open, he glanced all around him with confusion. He was in a small space with cardboard boxes. A blood-stained butterfly comforter covered the bottom half of his body. His suit had been stripped off of his torso. Several rolls of bandages, an open first aid kit, and a flashlight were scattered all around. Feeling a throb of pain in his left arm, he lifted it and his memory came rushing back.

The assassins! The gunshots! Marinette!

Adrien gasped and almost banged his head again as he lifted himself to search for her. She’d been laying beside him on spread out towels. She’d held his hand as he fell asleep.

The towels were there, but she was gone.

A sense of horror filled him. Where was she?

Kicking out of the comforter, he lifted the hatch with his right hand and ignored the pain in his shoulder. Daylight, bright and cheery, blasted from the windows.

“Marinette?” he called her name as loud as he dared. “Marinette? Where are you?”

Silence answered him.

Pulling himself out of the hole with a groan, the room around him spun dangerously and he had to catch himself on the floor. He’d lost a lot of blood last night. And he’d drank several shots worth of whisky. He’d told her about his past. She’d acted completely normal - kind and encouraging. Her beautiful body was covered in his blood, but she’d ignored herself completely, taking care to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. He had wanted to tell her more than just his past. There was something between them. A deep connection that he’d never felt before. And now that he knew her true feelings about Luka, there was nothing holding them back.

So, where was she?

“Marinette?” he asked the apartment again.

Nothing.

Pulling himself to his feet, he shuffled from the hatch door, green eyes flicking desperately from room to room. Kitchen? No. Bedroom? Nothing. Bathroom? Checking through the door, he sucked in a deep breath. Her leather jacket and crop top lay crumbled on the sink, blood-stained paper towels littering the tile floor.

“Marinette…”

A memory of last night swam. He’d said something about his father. He’d told her about the mayor’s speech this afternoon.

“What time is it?” He murmured, his voice cracking weakly. He almost collapsed once he glanced at the small round clock in the hallway.

Ten minutes past one.

She was going to his father’s speech at two.

“Oh, God…” he shook his head almost drunkenly, “Marinette… damn it…”

Another wave of vertigo slammed into him and he had to hold onto the wall to stop himself from falling over.

“Shit… oh, God, what do I do?”

Reaching back, he felt for his gun in his belt.

Missing. She’d taken his gun.

“Breathe, Adrien. Breathe. There’s always something. You gotta think…”

Shutting his eyes, he only saw her. The gentleness of her in the dim light of the flashlight. Her kind hands dressing his wounds. Her smiles and tears and- reaching for his pocket, he found the zipper open. A hard clutch jabbed his stomach as he felt for the picture frantically.

Her picture.

It was gone.

Hand coming up, he felt the earbuds dangling around his neck. She’d taken out his sound amplifier. She’d made sure he wouldn’t hear her leave.

The message was clear - so clear it cut him deep.

_Don’t follow._

“Like hell,” he hissed, “alright, first… first thing… I gotta get out of this suit. I won’t blend in…”

Stumbling in the hallway, he made his way to the bedroom. Shifting clumily through the upturn drawers, he growled in frustration. A wave of tacky pink sweaters, pink underwear, and yellow pants, but nothing big enough for him. Moving to the closet, Adrien pushed through dresses and high heeled shoes.

He’d almost settled on a small white dress that would fit him like a frilly shirt when he saw a box in the corner that gave him a shudder of relief.

_Ex-boyfriend’s crap._

Adrien pulled it out and shifted through it. A wrinkled black t-shirt with a pale visage of Jagged Stone on the front greeted him and he happily fished it out. Careful of the bandage on his arm, he pulled the shirt on. Thin, light green corduroy shorts followed. They were big on him, but it’d have to do. Belting the shorts tight on his thin waist, he made sure his baton, pellets, and the flask labeled _Cataclysm_ were safely tucked in the deep pockets.

Adrien left his suit and mask behind.  

He kept the cat ears - plugging the earbuds back in.

Checking the clock, he immediately felt sick. Did that really take fifteen minutes?

Feeling even more panicked, he rushed out the door and down the steps. Charging through the front door, he startled a muscle-bound man standing near the entrance.

“What the- _you_!” the man yelled reaching for a pistol strapped to his waist.

Despite the blood loss, the adrenaline kicked in and Adrien punched the man hard in the jaw. The guard’s head cracked on the brick wall behind him and he slid down the door frame in a daze. Glancing at the curious pedestrians around him, Adrien bent down and hit the man again. He saw the body go limp.

He snatched the gun and ran, his heart pounding with every step.

_Marinette…_  
  


* * *

  
Theo swerved like a man possessed, passing car after car. The highway was cluttered and he yanked the wheel on to the left service road. Zipping back into traffic, he pressed the gas and the smooth Venturi let out a small groan as it accelerated. Flicking his amber eyes into the rear-view mirror, he felt a jolt of fear and an instant relief. He could have sworn the old woman was there. Watching him from the backseat. Her one eye piercing.

Just waiting for her moment.

“You’ll never take me, you old bitch,” he hissed. “I’ll blow her to fucking hell!”

Dragging the wheel to the left, he took a sharp exit towards the Seine.

“I’ll get her, just you wait. I’ll make you watch while I tear her apart.”

The spirit - if she was there - didn’t answer.

“You hear me!?”

Yanking the wheel straight, Theo stopped short at a red light and growled at the cars crossing his path.

Suddenly, as if by fate, Theo looked to his right.

And there he was.

Adrien Agreste, in a black t-shirt and green shorts, was running down the sidewalk.


	18. Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug sacrifices

Feet shuffled loudly against the echoing concrete as the akuma continued to settle in the dimly lit square room. Luka, his arm gratefully around his sister’s shoulders, limped back to the dusty lawn chair, the fluid bags still connected to him sloshing against the metal wheeling pole. Rose had announced this was the storage basement of a nearby country club and that the night manager, some large man named Ivan, knew who they were.

They were safe - for the time being.

Glancing over at the sleeping pixie blonde, who he’d offered his bed for her to rest in, Luka marveled in the amount of planning it must have taken to be this coordinated. With only four people and a small handful of functioning akuma to help out, they had managed to smuggle, not only the bedridden like himself, but at least twenty others through the dark, narrow, underground tunnel. Juleka, a rope still tied around her thin waist, had corralled eight of them by herself.

The room was covered in boxes packed with golfing supplies. From fake grass to spare parts for golf carts, it smelled like plastic mixed with rich earth. Luka’s eyes slipped to Wayzz as he lowered into the lawn chair. The young man’s thin hands were busy with the electrical wires that were already waiting for him in a corner box. The cots, including Luka’s, were parked all around him. Even in evacuation, Wayzz had continued to steadily work. It had been hours since they’d arrived here from the tunnels and he hadn’t seen the young man sit down even once. Already three akuma were uncollared and beginning to walk around. He saw the vacant stares on their faces and shuddered.

He truly had been lucky.  

A kind hand brushed hair away from the left side of his face and he glanced up to catch his sister’s concern gaze.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“You okay?” Her voice, low and familiar, made him smile. Pushing a large box near his chair, she perched on top of it. “You look pale.”

“I’m always pale,” he said with fondness touching his words. “Haven’t had much time to see the sun lately.”

“That’s a terrible joke, Luka,” she scolded.

“I’ve never been one to communicate properly. You know that.” He leaned heavily against the backrest and sighed. “So, on that note, you and Rose, huh? I always knew you had a thing for her. I’m happy for you.”

The unexpected brilliant blush on his sister’s face warmed his heart. Her light brown eyes danced to the pretty blonde’s still face and rushed to the floor at her feet. Her dark curtain of hair hid some of her face, but he could see the glow of love behind her embarrassment.

“You are perceptive as always,” she murmured, not bothering to deny it.

“Who confessed first?”

“It was kind of a mutual thing. Working together for so long at the Orphanage. There were hard nights sometimes and things just… happened.”

Luka snorted. “‘Things just happened’? You know mom was shipping you two ever since Rose was in the band, right?”

“What about you? Mom was all about Marinette joining the family. What happened before the evacuation? Did you get to talk to her?”

He winced as the name tightened something inside of him.

Marinette.

She was so much older now. Three years had transformed her into something he didn’t know anymore. Luka remembered how he could feel her moods back when she was a teenager. He could read her heart as if she were music on his fingertips. She was so simple, so safe. Marinette had always been beautiful, but it was like she was more than that now. Like an ethereal superhero living inside Marinette’s skin. A hard shell of power covering the soft loveliness of what she used to be.

This Marinette. This brave woman who’d risked her life, who’d willingly plunged into danger to save as many as she could, she was different. Her heart wasn’t the same.

He could no longer read it.

Or maybe he was the one who’d changed. Maybe the collar had done more damage than originally thought.

“Luka,” Juleka’s voice slipped softly in his thoughts, “I know how you felt about Marinette. You always liked her, didn’t you?”

He gave a small shrug, but his heart thumped hard in his chest. “Of course, I did. She was one of my closest friends-”

His sister scoffed, cutting him off. “I get you back after all this time and you’re ready to lie to yourself all over again. I think you've been through enough to admit how you feel.”

“Juleka…” he groaned, long fingers reaching to rub his eyes tiredly.

“You kept her on a string long enough. It used to drive Rose and I insane how you flirted with her, yet did nothing about it. You never acted that way with anyone else - even those stupid girlfriends you had. Now you have a chance to make up for all that lost time. She’s always loved you.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Luka said softly, his hand falling to his lap.

She frowned. “I saw her face at the Orphanage when she went to go see you.”

“She acted like a concerned friend - nothing more.”

“Luka-”

“Her heart, Juleka,” he said, with a bite of bitterness, “it’s not the same. It’s hard to explain-”

“You expect Marinette to be the same person after all this time?” a bright voice spoke up behind him. Glancing back, he saw the dark-haired young woman stepping towards them, her hands clasp dutifully in front of her. Her brilliant blue eyes were almost the color of Marinette’s. Coming around, she stood by his chair bashfully. Bowing politely, her short bob brushed her chin. “I apologize for overhearing your conversation. My name is Tikki.”

“I remember you. Thank you for your help.” He smiled. “You helped at the race as well, right?”

“Wayzz did most of the work,” Tikki brushed his gratuity aside - though a pink flush spread charmingly on her round cheeks.

“What do you mean her heart’s changed?” Juleka asked.

Tikki pressed her lips together before looking at him with sad, kind eyes. “Marinette _was_ in love with you, Luka, but everything’s changed now. It’s as you said, Marinette is different. You cannot read her heart because… _well_ , it’s not yours to read. Not anymore.”

His mouth fell open, but he knew it was true as soon as she said the words. The honesty of it twisting his stomach sickly.

“It belongs to that man who is with her now. That blond guy.” Tikki continued.

“Wait, you mean the one that saved her from the bakery-” a sharp gasp escaped Juleka’s lips and her face filled with understanding.

Tikki nodded solemnly. “Green eyes. It was predicted.”

“What was predicted?” he asked, trying to keep up. “The Mayor’s son?” Luka had forgotten all about him. He hadn’t even questioned why he was with her.

“He’s Marinette’s hero,” his sister said softly just a beat faster than Tikki’s chiming, “Actually, he’s her soulmate.”

“Her _soulmate_?” Luka blinked before sitting back in his chair. Lifting a thin arm, he brushed his long hair over his shoulder to distract the shot of pain that rocked into his heart. Hands falling into his lap, he looked at them, sighing softly.

“Well, he wasn’t her soulmate until yesterday afternoon. I mean, he was?” Tikki shook her head. “Sorry, that doesn’t make very much sense, but it’s hard to explain. She changed him when he saw her picture and he changed her when he saved her and now the red string ties them together. I saw it when he was at the Orphanage. They have a destiny and we can’t interfere.”

He let go of a long breath and Juleka put a hand on his shoulder. Though he knew his sister was trying to comfort him, she was just making it worse.

“Even if you two had been together long ago, this still would have happened, Luka. She’s found her missing piece,” Tikki whispered, taking a few steps towards his chair. Kneeling at his side, he glanced at the sincere blue eyes. “The bond of soulmates is the strongest connection that exists. Fate moves around it. Destiny guides it. Even death, though it always tries, has only beaten it a few times throughout history. As long as they are together, they will survive-”

Her words were cut off with a tight gasp at a loud popping noise outside the metal storage door.

Several akuma began to scream.

Luka stood shakily. Tikki straightened next to him with her trembling hands bracing around his waist to help steady him. Juleka rushed to Rose - who was sitting up from the cot looking bleary-eyed and scared.

The popping got louder.

Luka grabbed Tikki’s shaking hand tightly, holding it to his thin chest protectively.

_Gunshots._

* * *

  
The crowd was large. Tourists and Parisian citizens mingled together, excited voices echoing in the large open square. Marinette had followed the crowd, her head ducked low, her messy pigtails brushing the sides of her jaw. Having crossed Place du Carrousel with her heart in her throat, she instantly hurried up the small flight of stairs to the left leading to Cafe Marly in an inner-cove. The outside tables were crowded with people. A tiny crevice, covered by a column, caught her eye and she dashed into it, hiding in shadow.  

Her stomach twisted, her hands pulled the edges of the tiny polka dot shirt. There were so many people.

Too many people.

Too many civilians to get caught in the crossfire.

Several loud voices called out to one another and she jumped. Engineers and tech crew fiddled with the microphone system on the large, half-built platform that was roped off from the public. Stationed right in front of the glass pyramid’s doors, the stage was already circling with armed Parisian Police. Biting her lower lip, she tried to calm her mind to think. She was gambling here. If Hawkmoth didn’t know she was coming for him, would he usually have so many police stationed? Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he did.

She groaned between clenched teeth.

There was only one way to really find out.

“Alright, Marinette, just step out and then back in. No big deal. They can’t tell you apart from the crowd that easily.”

Emerging from the shadows with sporadic trembles of fear gripping her shoulders, her lips screwed into an excited smile as her eyes danced intensely over the massive Baroque buildings surrounding the Pyramid. Slipping to the railing of the cafe, she studied the numerous statues lining the first floor of the beautiful golden palace. Her gaze left them and began to travel through the uncountable windows.

Right side? Nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. She leaned a bit further. Left side? Not that she could tell. The back behind the pyramid? Not even a shadow.

Could it really be true? Her heart rose.

Was she really safe?

A whisper of reflected light drew her sharp gaze back to the immortalized statues to the south and she instantly jumped away with horror curling in her stomach. There they were. An almost invisible line of small, skinny black shadows were moving slowly and inconspicuously back and forth near the edge of the first floor. The passing sun had hit the glass of a scope. Pressing her back against the cool stone of the crevice once again, she tried to catch her failing breath. Her pink top was damp with her sweat. She wrapped her arms around her chest and shivered.

Sniper rifles. Right below the statues on the first floor. At least a hundred or so.

So, they _were_ waiting for her.

Hawkmoth knew…

Closing her eyes at the waves of terror that gripped tightly, Marinette bit her lip. She knew this was going to be suicide. She knew she was walking to her death. Tasting blood from her lip, her cerulean gaze flicked to the innocent people watching as the platform’s support poles were screwed together. Idle excited chatter rumbled in mass waves. Brushing the sharp burn away from her eyes, she leaned forward once more to send a furtive glance towards the assassins before judging the platform. A meter off the ground, give or take. That would save her from accidentally shooting someone with the stray bullet. The technical crew were rigging the speakers now.

Horror swirled. The number of police surveillance had doubled within the last few minutes. Their eyes swung left and right like the snipers, searching the crowd.

For her.

It was like a human wall to the platform.

She backed away once more to the shadows and touched the gun tucked away in her waistline.

This was it. Time to finish this once and for all or die trying.

A large squeaking feedback of the microphone made her jump.

“ _Testing… testing… one-two… one-two…"_

Flashing lights of four police vehicles pulled up against the curb of Place du Carrousel and Marinette’s heart jumped wildly. In the middle of the cop cars, a shiny Lamborghini with government official flags waving merrily stopped and the car door opened. A woman stepped out, her back impeccably straight and her head held high - Marinette instantly zeroed in on the scarf around the woman’s neck.

An akuma.

The tall frame of Gabriel Agreste folded out of the car. Hair perfectly smoothed back from his long face, the calm, intelligent eyes smiled kindly at the cheering crowd.     

Rage burned her, taking with it her fear of death.

This was it.

This was her destiny.

The stage was set, the crowd was cheering, and the raven-haired woman took a willing step closer towards the railing. He walked like a king, the police keeping the throng of well wishers back.

Out of her hiding place and walking down the steps, she felt the sun hit her skin and warm her. Reaching back, she pulled the gun and tucked it to her side.

Four bullets.

For Fu. For her parents. For Grandma. For Nathaniel. For those that spent the last three years of their lives rehabilitating the akuma in the Orphanage. For those that were about to be sacrificed for Hawkmoth’s new scheme. For those she couldn’t save. For the ones she did - like Luka.

For Adrien.

Time to fly _._


	19. Theo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Black Cat meets Foe and Friend

The honking cars, the loud idle chatter of Parisians, and the flourishing shops of downtown Paris fell into a strange mingling ambience in his foggy mind. Adrien focused on his breathing, the training of his past forcing him to naturally jump into self-preservation mode.

Calm the mind. Slow the heart rate. Keep an easy pace.

Trying not to think of the time quickly ticking away from him, he couldn’t stop his stomach from squeezing in panic. Lifting his blinking green eyes, he stopped only for a moment to read the street plaque on the wall:

 _Boulevard Haussmann_ and _Richelieu - Drouot._

The Museum was far… too far…

Swallowing down a sour bile building in his throat, stars winked around the passing cars and hurrying people. A streak of black shadow had started encroaching on the sides of his vision and he unwillingly staggered to his right, his shoulder hitting hard against a display window of a boutique.

He shouldn’t have stopped. His legs wouldn’t go any further. Several people gasped in surprise as he pressed his forehead to the cool glass and braced himself with his hands. He hardly noticed the red smear of wet crimson he left on the window. Sticky sweat stuck his new shirt to his shoulders and back. Trying desperately to keep his balance, he clenched his tan fists in frustration as the world took a nauseating dive.

Glancing to his arm with tunneling vision, he noticed the towel holding his bandage together was brilliant red with blood. He’d open the stitches. Thinking back, he groaned. He’d punched the guard outside the apartment door with his left hand.

Adrien’s eyes had to close as the street took yet another teeth-clenching spin. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. They were going to go together. She’d said so last night. They were going to make a plan to take out Hawkmoth. What could she be thinking? Was she trying to catch his father without his bodyguards? Was she going to sneak in while he was up on the stage?

A flash of her lovely face pierced through the growing black and he pounded a fist on the glass.

She must have had this planned. He’d drank too much whisky, wasn’t thinking clearly. He let her slip through his fingers. Shaking his head, blond locks brushing over his eyes, Adrien had to admit to himself he’d had trouble thinking clearly ever since he’d gotten ahold of her picture. There was something about Marinette, something so… awakening. He felt like he was crashing headfirst, unable to stop this feeling inside. She was so alive - so stupidly brave and kind and beautiful and-

A sharp sting hit Adrien’s heart like an arrow.

And Marinette was going to die.

And he was, once again, too weak to stop it.

What was he going to do?

“Marinette,” Adrien groaned, his eyes burning behind his eyelids. A feverish chill rushed down his arms and legs.

A loud honk and a “Get out of the road, moron!” behind him caught his attention and he swung his head to the hectic street. Adrien’s brain seemed to freeze as a flash of familiar amber eyes gleamed at him in the afternoon sun. The man was smiling lazily, strolling confidently across the street - closing in the gap between them. Cars squealed to a stop, but he hardly flinched.

His lips twisted further as Adrien staggered back on the sidewalk and collided with two shoppers.

“Shit…”

With heavy feet, he used the wall to brace himself. Blood dripped freely on the concrete. A universe of stars winked in his eyes and his head throbbed with a new terror.

The assassin had come.  
  


* * *

  
Theo grinned, the rushing thrill of Agreste’s fear sharpening his delight. Stepping easily on the sidewalk, he dodged a haggle of chattering business suits and shoppers. Golden blond weaving in and out of the crowd, he reached back to unclick his sharp folding dagger that rested on his belt. Flipping it open, he kept the sharp blade at his side, his thumb running gently along the razor edge. His body ached with a sharp hunger. Agreste was hobbling in desperation. He was already wounded.

Theo laughed as his prey stumbled on a loose stone and fell on his knees to the concrete. This was too easy.

Theo was only five meters away now.

Four.

Two.

Agreste’s entire body was trembling. He struggled in vain to rise, but his legs were obviously giving up on him. Theo saw his shaking fingers reach back for something tucked in his pants. His amber eyes glinted as he raised the knife steady and focused on the perfect spot on the blond’s broad back. Licking his lips, he could already taste the iron blood that would spill. Death could come swiftly for his prey, but Theo knew he would continue to stab him long afterward.

Half a meter…

Agreste shifted on his knees and turned to face him, his green eyes glazed with horror and bagged with fatigue. Theo felt the familiar cold whisper of a hand brushing against the back of his neck - and what he saw made him stop short.

The print…

The white print on Agreste’s black shirt.

It was hidden in shadow, as if ripping itself from the darkness. The pale face was smiling, it’s grin piercing out from the front of Agreste’s chest.

It was coming for him.

The dark closet full of dead.

The old woman’s promise to follow him tossed with the wind, drowning out the noise of traffic. The sun brushed on Agreste for a moment. A second. The dark holes in the blank face's eyes were brightened in the sun. A lidless white eye instantly appeared in the right socket.

Watching.

Waiting for him.

Taking one step back, Theo stood in captivated horror as the t-shirt's features warped - mutated into a spectral visage missing parts of her face.

She was waiting! She was with Agreste! This was a trap!

With a sharp cry, Theo slashed wildly at Agreste’s chest. The blond backed away just in time and managed to stagger to his feet. Theo’s stomach turned, his heart seemed to coil in his chest. The woman’s smile was growing! The face becoming clearer! The visible eye was glazed over with vengeful lust.

“Get away! Get away from me! I’ll kill you!” The words tore from Theo’s throat. A familiar popping noise hit the air like thunder. Swinging the blade, Theo hardly noticed a sharp spike of agony racing through his abdomen. His dagger missed Agreste again. The woman laughed at him.

“You’re dead! You’re dead and you aren’t taking me with you! I’ll kill her!”

The popping noise happened again. A bloom of unbearable pain burned in Theo’s stomach. His fingers dropped the knife without his permission. They no longer had the strength to hold it. Taking his eyes off the specter, he glanced down at himself. His white shirt was quickly gaining two new red blobs on his stomach.

How?

When?

Agreste’s upraised hand shook violently, a gun held by blood-stained fingers.

Frowning, Theo looked back down at the black shirt again.

The woman wasn’t emerging. It was a simple outlined print of Jagged Stone’s face. The eyes had disappeared. The woman’s deformed skull was gone. Holding his hands to his bleeding stomach, Theo let out a small gasp as a burning agony ripped through him, forcing him to bow forward.  

“You got me… old bitch…” Theo said to the shirt, his voice weak. He coughed and tasted nutty iron. Seeing his knife on the ground, he reached for it, but lost his balance. His face crashed hard on the concrete, a riptide of overwhelming pain seizing him. Bone-chilling cold raced up and down his arms. Glancing at his limbs, he saw his hands were grasped by icy fingers. Spectral arms emerging from the sidewalk, clawing at his wrists, holding him down. A chorus of ethereal voices whispered in his ears in a language he couldn’t understand.

He couldn’t move.

He couldn’t escape.

“You will not interfere…” a voice mumbled the words. A squelching cough followed as more iron tasting saliva poured into his throat.

Only then did Theo realize he was the one who’d said the words - and that he’d said it against his will.

As a swallowing darkness began to take over his mind, more familiar pale faces followed the growing black. All of them were waiting. All of them were lives he’d taken. More icy fingers grasped and clawed at his body and he shook, fighting for life.

Lifting his amber gaze to the figure above him, the sun shadowed Agreste’s features - all except for the one-eyed woman emerging from his shirt.

Her dead fingers finally taking him away.

And she was laughing.  
  


* * *

  
Adrien stumbled back and almost fell on his backside. The assassin - lying on his stomach on the sidewalk - fell still as his dull eyes stared silently up at him. Staring in a wave of relief and sick fascination, Adrien’s amplified hearing barely registered the distant screams. Shaking away his stunned stupor, he noticed many people were running away from the bloody scene. A familiar wail of a police siren woke Adrien somewhat back to reality.

Turning from the corpse, Adrien groaned and bent over as another terrible wave of nausea washed over him. He wavered on his feet as he tucked the gun back into his waistband. His fingers were slippery with blood. His vision fogged with a dense cloud. He needed to get out. The police were the last people he needed on his tail. Swaying on spot, Adrien couldn’t get his feet to move. The black was massing further over his eyes.

He wasn’t aware he was falling backward. His mind was going numb.

Adrien started weakly as his back hit against strong arms and sturdy fingers braced him up.

“My God, what the hell are you wearing? And you’re so thin! I thought you told me you’d eat better, you stupid cat!” A voice from the past complained in his ear. “And look what you’ve done to this amplifier! I see you’re still terrible at taking care of your equipment!”

No. It couldn’t be…

Swiveling his pulsating head, Adrien caught stern, worried eyes behind a black and yellow mask. Long, light blonde hair high in a ponytail, a subtle yellow and black stripe suit, spikes covering rich black gloves.

“I guess I can give you a lift. Even if picking up your sorry arse has made me late to an important date.”

Then she smiled with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can google map where Adrien is! I mapped out real places! The café crevice outside Le Louvre is also a thing (that's where Marinette is hiding). Look at me, little researcher. :3


	20. Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bee enters the race

_Her words were cut off with a tight gasp at a loud popping noise outside the metal storage door._  
  
_Several akuma began to scream._  
  
_Luka stood shakily. Tikki straightened next to him with her trembling hands bracing around his waist to help steady him. Juleka rushed to Rose - who was sitting up from the cot looking bleary-eyed and scared._  
  
_The popping got louder._  
  
_Luka grabbed Tikki’s shaking hand tightly, holding it to his thin chest protectively._  
  
Gunshots.

Pushing Tikki behind him, more loud shots thundered outside. Luka watched as if in slow motion as the others tried to settle the screaming akuma. Rose, her small blonde head bobbing through the pandemonium, hurried to tie three akuma to her before backing away to Wayzz’s corner - the spot furthest from the metal storage door.

Raven hair bled past him and Luka watched helpless as Tikki snatched up a rope on the floor to tie around her waist. Hobbling with his pole of fluids, he spied several rusted golf clubs stacked on a box and grabbed for one. Stepping forward, he ushered two akuma with a free hand and Tikki snatched their hands - taking them to Rose. He did his best to help round them up, several fighting against him. Multiple times, he had to let them go, his vision growing woozy with terror and overexertion. Meanwhile, by his side, Tikki continued to help, her rope tying around four, sometimes five, akuma to lead to the small corner in the room.

It was only a handful of minutes, Luka finally cornered the last akuma - a poor panicking young man who’d backed away to the entrance. The akuma swung a confused fist as Luka got close - and he wasn’t fast enough. The punch left a snap of pain in Luka’s jaw and he fell to the ground. Head spinning, arms shaking, all he could see were the fluorescent lights on the ceiling above.

A ringing in his ears muffled the gunshots into muted pops in the background.

“Luka!”

A bright voice pierced through the muffle. It was Tikki’s voice. Her heart-shaped face was suddenly at his side, gentle fingers touching his chin. He hissed at the inevitable bruise.

“Tikki, help the akuma…”

She shook her head with a stubbornness settling into her bright blue eyes. “You’re coming with me. Come on. Get to your feet.”

Small hands, somehow familiar, pulled on his shoulders - sitting him up and brushing his long hair out of his eyes. Bracing him gently, he stood just as the metal door pounded loudly. Akuma wailed, one knocking over a piece of Wayzz’s equipment.

His pole of fluids dripping on the ground, he reached to rip out the cumbersome needles from his arm, but was stopped by Tikki’s fingers.  

“No, don’t! Just wait!” Her gaze was narrowing at the metal door in front of them with an intensity he’d never seen before.

The pounding grew louder.

“Get behind me!” Luka tried to push the small girl behind his back, but he had no strength.

Instead, she moved to stand in front of him, her arms spread as if to shield him.

“Tikki-”

“I went with Wayzz to help with the races the other night.” Her voice was quick and breathless - the screams and pounding almost drowning her out. “I usually don’t go pick up collared akuma, but this time, I insisted. In fact, I had to. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“What?” he shouted incredulously, wondering why she was bringing this up now.

“I didn’t have a choice-” turning, her blue eyes flicked into his and something both warm and cold shot down his spine, “-because it’s destiny.”

The metal door squealed open loudly.

And Tikki was in front of it.

It was followed by flashlights blasting on her body and an uncountable amount of soldiers in black uniforms filing inside - guns pointed straight at her.  

“Queen, I found them! The akuma are safe just like the manager said!” A tall man reported suddenly into his headset. Lowering his gun, he motioned with two fingers for the rest to follow suit.

Luka’s head was floating with both confusion and sick relief.

“What the devil is going on?” Wayzz roared from the corner.

“We apologize for the delay. We were detained due to a group of assassins outside. Looks like we made it just in time.” The tall man came forward and plucked off his helmet. Pale yellow tips dyed into his hair, his handsome face grinned down at Tikki, who had yet to lower her arms from shielding Luka. “Not to worry, miss. We took care of them.”

“Alright, Kim, calm down,” a female’s voice piped in from the line of soldiers and a helmet whisked off a short pink-haired woman. “Just because she’s pretty doesn’t mean you get to go googly-eyed at her.”

Stepping forward, she shoved Kim aside to announce, “Commandement des Opérations Spéciales, Mademoiselle. We were informed by Squad Superior Queen Bee of the Divisions Force that the criminal subject known as ‘Hawkmoth’ sent a group of assassins to terminate everyone in this location. As soon as we got your exact coordinates, we flew here and surrounded the building just in time to get rid of most of the men hired to kill you. A _dunderhead_ that will remain anonymous” - she blinked pointedly up at Kim, who cleared his throat - “let a few escape through the trees. We think you should stay in here for the time being until there’s an all clear.”

At Kim’s signal, soldiers passed them to help the rest of the group with the still panicking akuma.

“You’re… h-here to save us… you actually c-came…” Tikki’s entire body was quaking like her voice.  Luka watched as she lowered her arms and she suddenly turned on toe to hug his chest tightly. He gasped, glancing down at her jet black hair before carefully wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Looks like you’re out of luck again, Kim,” the pink woman said with a smirk on her lips.

Kim just sighed.

“I never get to play the hero card, do I?”

* * *

**  
One hour earlier.**

Nino’s hand tightened on his seatbelt as Alya whipped the small jeep’s steering wheels sharply to the left. Nathaniel and Sophie let out an identical “Wheeee!” from the back seat as the tires squealed their discomfort.

“I still can’t believe you just left that assassin alive in the closet!” Alya snarled through clenched teeth.

“What was I supposed to do? Bring him with us?”

“You should have just ended him! What if he escapes?”

“He was hog-tied to a chair, babe! He’s not going anywhere! And we have to get to your mother’s house as soon as - hang on, Bee’s calling again.” The red-capped man winced as Alya made yet another frighteningly acute turn, swiveling out and almost sliding the opposite way. Three cars shrieked to a stop as the woman pressed the accelerator once more.

“If you would please stop driving like a lunatic, that would be great, babe!” Nino yelled - his voice an octave higher.

The ombre-haired gave him a glare. “You think this is bad? Don’t test me, _babe!”_

“My god, woman! Eyes on the road!” He screamed before answering the call. “This is Lahiffe!”

_“Your GPS looks insane. Are you okay?”_

“Just have some errands to run,” Nino replied faintly as she bled through yet another red light.

_“I hope you brought those suits Alya stole from our government. I didn’t think to pack yours with me and you’re going to need them.”_

His eyes flipped to Alya. “You know about that?”

The irritated sigh on the line was way too familiar. _“How do you think she got out with them? Listen, I’ve sent three Division Force units as soon as my onsite hacker broke through their systems and found the location of the kidnapped victims Ladybug has been taking care of. They should be there within the next fifteen minutes. We are still gathering the manpower and supplies for the takedown near Le Louvre. We should be there ten minutes before the speech.”_

“According to the order records, more assassins will be within the crowd. Did you figure out the exact amount?”

_“No, but facial recognition masks should help us weed them out. My only worry is those caught in the crossfire.”_

“That’s what Carapace is for, right?” Nino said - before letting out an undignified squeal as Alya twisted dangerously down a thin one-way road.

“Watch out! You’re going to kill us!”

“I’m doing just fine! You handle the call!” Alya growled back.

_“Why did you let Rena drive? You know how she gets when she’s in killing spree mode!”_

“She said she could ha-ahhh!” The scream left his lips as Alya almost grazed another car. “...handle it…”

 _“Stop screaming in my ear,”_ Bee complained, before there was a small pause. _“Holy shit… I have the confirmation: It’s… the mayor… Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth.”_

“Adrien’s old man is _what-now_?” Nino’s heart clenched. Alya glanced at him, eyes blown wide with questions.

_“It’s true. I have the scanned paperwork to back it up. He was working on shutting out the French government from investigating. It was sneaking an addendum to force Paris practically into a city-state. How could he possibly have thought this would be approved?”_

“He sold the akuma to prominent men in the city. They would have wanted him to succeed. I’m sure they had a hand in passing it without a hitch.”

_“We caught it just in time. The documents are being forwarded to my superiors as evidence.”_

“How is this just now being discovered? If it was this easy, you’d think he’d have been caught a long time ago.”

 _“Apparently…”_ Chloe’s voice hitched and there was a moment of silence. _“Son of a bitch…”_

“Bee? What is it?”

Another breath of silence before, _“D-Don’t worry about it. We need to focus on the task at hand. This, Ladybug… do you know where she might be?”_

“She is probably with Adrien.”

_“Alright, hopefully that cat will stay out of our way and keep her safe until it’s over. Get to Le Louvre as fast as you can. We’ll need all the backup we can get. We’ll be taking the route down Richelieu.”_

“We have our little girl and someone else with us right now. We have to take them to a safe place first. We may be a few minutes late for the speech. But, hey, you never know. With the way Alya drives we might beat you there.”

“Is that a challenge?” A foxy gleam spread on Alya’s face.

_“Just make sure you’re suited up before you show. This might get ugly. And Carapace?”_

“Yeah?”

_“It’s nice to have the team back together.”_

Nino smiled.

“Let’s kick some ass, Bee. Just like old times.”


	21. Ace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Butterfly gives a speech

Marinette slipped forward through the crowd, her cerulean gaze flicking from Hawkmoth’s thin back, which was slowly climbing the stairs on the podium, to the sniper rifles skimming the thick crowd. She watched as Gabriel Agreste turned to face the cheering Parisians, a simple open smile on his thin lips. It looked smug to her. Triumphant. It made her blood boil.  

Her body was tense and a sickening thought crossed her mind: would she feel any pain if a sniper head shot her? She could only pray it was quick.

Here one minute, the next - gone.

It was strange. Just like with Bourgeois, Adrien’s gun was steady in her hand and it was as if she was an outside spectator watching over her shoulder. Marinette watched as she brushed past several smiling faces, her finger touching the trigger. The cops guarding the podium skimmed over her - once, twice. For now, at least in this moment, she was just another face in the crowd.

Tight blue eyes narrowing, her vision tunneled to Agreste’s face. He was nodding at the throng below his stage, his thin hand up in a simple wave. With a white jacket, brilliant crimson pants, and a thick-striped red and white cravat, he was painted as a target.

All the more easy then.

Suddenly, Gabriel reached back to rub the back of his neck with a hand and the gesture made her freeze on spot. Even stiff, distant, and slick-backed, she instantly saw Adrien in him.

His _father…_

She was going to kill his father.

Her concentration broke and a keen of cold sweat dripped down her forehead. She didn’t want to, but her gaze flicked off of the Mayor to study the crowd, suddenly wishing a tall blond was there beside her. There was a strange tick of something wrong twisting inside her.

She shouldn’t be here.

This was wrong.

She should back away.

No! She fought the feeling and forced herself to slip past another person in the crowd. The wrongness simmered on the edges of her fear, like the breathless smoke of a starting fire. Marinette had risked everything for this moment. She couldn’t let it pass her by.

One bullet. That was all she needed.

And yet, as Marinette inched closer to the stage and a cop to the left squinted at her face, as she ducked behind a larger man and waited for the uniformed officer to look away, she couldn’t stifle the feeling. He was beginning his speech now - his words blurring in her mind nonsensically. His voice was softer, deeper than Adrien’s, but held that same friendly inflection. The lilt at the end of each sentence. On Adrien lips, it sounded playful.

On Hawkmoth’s - it sounded deceitful.

Twisting out from behind the larger man, she had progressed only half a meter more before a hard metal something poked into the middle of her spine. A clammy hand grabbed her right forearm and kept her from lifting her pistol. Marinette gasped and turned her head.

An old man, his grey head tipped as if greeting her like a friend, held her tight, his lips pulling into a delightful grin. Yanking her closer, the barrel of his handgun pressed in hard and she winced in the pain. Her horror had frozen her. Her heart hammering sickly in her chest. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

They’d caught her.

The sounds of a cheering crowd washed out of her mind. She closed her eyes, bitterness crossing with regret. The seconds were ticking, but they felt drawn out like minutes.

Was this really how it felt when you faced death?

Everything was slow, waiting.

Paused in this one moment of last breaths.

_Goodbye…_

A tight scream erupted from behind her and she heard the gun clatter to the ground. Jumping in surprise, she felt the man’s tight fingers break away. Swinging the gun around on unsteady feet, her blue eyes widened in astonishment as a familiar black leather-cladded back stood in front of her. Blond hair tossing in the breeze with shiny pointed cat ears. Clawed fingers balled up and smashed into the side of the assassin’s face. He flew backwards into the crowd, his body colliding with three people. The cat was quick - even more so than last night. Like a disappearing shadow, he suddenly appeared in front of the fallen assassin, his boot slamming on the man’s nose.

Marinette almost dropped her gun as tears of violent relief blurred her vision and raced down her face. The sharp shoulder blades, the flicking black belt, the lean muscles on his arms and legs. He turned his head, his mask glowing his green eyes. If he was still hurt, she couldn’t tell, his expression a mixture of sharp concentration and concern.

“Are you hurt?” Adrien’s tenor voice sang into her. Stepping forward as more screams erupted around them, his hand slid up to the back of her neck, claws curling into her messy hair. His handsome face leaning close, she could see her reflection in his eyes. Her forehead pressed into his. Noses almost touching.

“Y-you came…”

“Did they get you, Marinette? Are you shot?”

She shook her head, a sob escaping her lips.

He gave a hard sigh of relief.

“We have to go. Now.”

With the calm swiftness she was so acquainted with, he grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd away from the stage. The square was in a panic, the sound of gunfire bursting all around her. Marinette began to notice men and women in black uniforms storming the crowd, fighting through the uproar. Adrien leaped over a bleeding corpse and she matched him, perfectly in sync.

“What’s happening? Who are all these people?” she yelled.

“I’ll explain later!”

“There she is!” A woman’s shriek rang out from behind their backs and Marinette’s stomach gave a sickening twist. 

She barely registered as Adrien immediately pulled her behind his back.

“No!” She cried as he let go of her hand and spread his arms to shelter her. Marinette gave a short scream as several guns from civilians and cops alike pointed right at him.

Before anyone could react, four of the assassins fell forward, small holes drilling into their bodies. As blood instantly squirted out of the last five, Marinette and Adrien turned their heads in unison to where the slugs had come from.

“Rena!” Adrien gasped out.

The ombre-haired woman knelt low on top of an older modeled jeep that was parked haphazardly twelve meters away. Thick strips of dark orange, like a fox print, draped her tight suit from her shoulders to meet at her waist. Heavy ammo clips buckled at her hip, they trailed behind her like a tail - much like Adrien’s belt. A long ear twitched on her head - a sound amplifier made to look like fox ears - and Alya shifted her weight to spray a round from the huge gun in her hands, taking down a good number of cops near the stage. With a blood-thirsty glint behind her orange mask, she gave a short nod in their direction, her huntress gaze hungrily drinking in the destruction.

“Let’s go!” Adrien grabbed her hand again.

“Stop right there!” A tight voice called to Marinette’s right. A young man, his eyes excited, was pulling a trigger. Before she or Adrien could react, a shimmering iridescent green raced between them and the new assailant. The bullet thundered, but bounced on the almost invisible green shield, instantly reflecting the slug right back into the assassin’s chest. As the man went down, a tall crouching figure blurred into view, becoming visible only for a heartbeat before slipping off into the sea of people like a green vapor.

Adrien was frozen for a moment. “Carapace…”    

“Come on!” Marinette yanked on him this time, pulling them out of the panicking crowd. There were black vans parked all over Place du Carrousel and they raced together behind one of them. Adrien immediately leaned heavily against the side of the vehicle, gasping for breath. Slugs slammed into the truck after them.

More shouts and screams. This was mass chaos.

Letting go of her hand, Adrien coughed loudly, his face unusually pale behind his mask. His suit was different - slicker and shinier. Thicker on his chest, but more forgiving at his thin waistline. Watching his green eyes close tightly, she felt herself shaking - her mind trying to catch up with what just happened in the last minute and a half.

“Why did you…” the words couldn’t come out, but the tears did. She wiped them from her eyes with trembling fingers.

Rolling his head towards her still panting, he said, “The government, Marinette. Nino tipped them off. Apparently, he got that assassin’s phone and got all the information from it. I didn’t really have time to get the particulars from Queen Bee, but that’s not important. He immediately called her and the code breakers are digging into Hawkmoth’s files as we speak. The akuma, the assassinations, the races - everything. Even a list of new Master names being added to the pile. Secret bank accounts, scandals. Everything that’s been hushed up or paid off. Bee has a hacker here that’s even tracked into the mobile frequency they are using right now. France is shutting down this game. And it’s all because of you.”

A white-hot rage irrationally burned inside her belly and coursed through her veins. She shot him a glare and he blinked in surprise.

“What’s wrong?”

“You idiot!” she hollered, pushing against his chest. His clawed fingers reached up to grab her arms. “Why did you come? You can barely stand! Why?” She wanted to punch him. To kick him. To kiss him so hard that she had to bite hard on the inside of her cheek to stop herself. “You are so stupid! So reckless!”

His green eyes tightened in anger. He pushed off the truck and matched her glare with one of his own. “ _Me,_ reckless? What about you? You left me, Marinette! What was I supposed to do? Let you die? Let you run off and get yourself killed? I just saved you out there and you’re angry at me?”

“I have every reason to be angry! You stood in front of those guns!”

His face leaned close to hers and she raised her chin to aggressively meet his anger. “I could say the same to you! You have no idea what you’re doing! Whatever happened to ‘taking care of this together’?!”

“I knew exactly what I was-”

“No, you didn't! You were walking right into Hawkmoth’s trap!”

“I realized he was waiting for me. I saw the snipers! I saw the cops!”

Adrien lifted his hands as if to grab her shoulders, but ran both through his blond hair instead. The locks tossed wildly around his new cat ears. “Then why the hell would you go? It’s suicide!”

“One bullet, Adrien! That’s what Fu said! It would take just one bullet to stop this entire-”

“Sacrificing yourself is what Fu would have wanted? To see you throw your life away like this? Would he be proud to see you die!?”

“ _He_ was willing to-”

“We are talking about _you_ , Marinette! Not him! This is _your_ life! Fu is dead! But  _you_ are still alive!”

“I know he’s dead! He died for the cause and-”

“So that makes dying for it your destiny as well? Just because he got killed suddenly you are doomed to the same fate?”

“This was never about fate. This was about doing what is necessary!”

“What was all this about being your hero, then? Was that fate all bullshit, too? It seems like it since it was so easy to just leave me behind!”

The rebutting words escaped her at the look of anguish on his handsome face. She watched as his gaze danced from her eyes to her lips heatedly. That tightly coiled feeling rushed inside with her anger and adrenaline, washing her with temptation and fire.  
   
“You  _left_ me, Marinette,” he hissed - and guilt as sharp as a knife carved in her stomach. His shoulders trembled. “You disappeared, took y-your picture from me. You left me in that apartment only to wake up and realize you were gone. That I’d never see you ever again. You were going to _die._ I ca-can’t handle that, Marinette. Not again.”

“I said goodbye to you.” She felt her cheeks bloom with a bright blush and her gaze dashed to his lips. “What was I supposed to do? You were in danger of bleeding out all night and could barely move on your own!”

“I’m fine!”

“Oh, yeah, sure! You are at top peak condition right now, aren’t you!?” She hollered and pushed hard on his chest. His back hit against the large vehicle behind him and he groaned.

“I left you in the apartment so you’d live, Adrien!”

“How could I live with myself if you died on me?!”

Marinette choked and the anger fled from his face. A faint blush popped underneath the mask, but he kept her eyes in his. She felt most of her fight fall short as her heart began to race unnaturally hard - pulsing through her body like wildfire. They both were panting, staring at each other, studying every inch and expression.

“So,” she willed the words out, “what are you saying, then? Would I just be another guilty weight on your conscience like those you lost in your squad? Would I be a sad regret to reflect on every now and then? Or would you be losing something _more_ than that?”

He was quiet, looking almost like a cornered cat. His eyes darted over her entire body nervously.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally answered hesitantly.

Marinette groaned and wanted to shake him in frustration. “I guess I’ll have to ask it straight out for you to get it! Do I mean more to you?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His hot gaze once again danced over her lips.

“Well, what is it?” she demanded.

He audibly swallowed and straightened from the vehicle. Taking a step closer, she saw a boldness envelope behind his eyes. An anticipated nervousness squirmed inside her.

Suddenly, his cat ear flicked to the left.

“Chat Noir, I thought I saw you scamper over here.”

A muted yellow and black striped uniform was tight across her shoulders and chest. The newcomer walked like royalty - with her back straight, her chin high, and her blonde ponytail tossed. A black mask covered her beautiful, heart-shaped face just like Adrien’s, except hers showcased her eyes in a yellow hue instead of green. Crossing her arms as she approached, Marinette noticed her ebony gloves had wicked spikes on the knuckle of each finger. Her sharp gaze flicked between the two of them and Marinette realized she probably heard the entire fight.

“This is Ladybug?” the woman asked shortly.

“Yeah,” Adrien grunted, “Marinette, this is Queen Bee. She’s the Superior of Special Divisions. Bee, this is the woman I was telling you about on the way up here.”

“Reckless thing you did out there,” Bee blinked sternly at her before her pale lips curled into a tight smile. “You’re impressive though. I’ve read the reports. It’s nice to meet you at last, Ladybug.”

“At last?” Marinette asked - practically shell-shocked at the praise.  

“From what I’ve read, Hawkmoth is a nasty piece of work - no offense, Chat,” she added. He just shrugged darkly and looked at the ground. “If I experienced what you’ve endured these past three years… The horror of it…” To Marinette’s complete and utter surprise, the stranger suddenly closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around her shoulders in a tight embrace.

Bee’s body was trembling.

“You killed my father,” she whispered in Marinette’s left ear - and a shiver of tight fear flicked down her spine. “Andre Bourgeois… he was my father and you _killed_ him, Ladybug.”

Blue eyes wide, arms pinned to her side, Marinette felt the woman squeeze her tighter.

“You killed him before he could do anything worse. I read what he did - all those lives. He… he was a _monster_. I wish I’d known. I would have pulled that trigger myself. Thank you for saving those people from him. Thank you for stopping him.”

The relief was almost as overwhelming as her gratitude. She let Marinette go, but kept her gloved hands gently on the raven-haired shoulders. Queen Bee was even prettier up close, her golden eyes glimmering with sadness, but lined with resolve.

“I have a request,” she continued under her breath. “I read that you saved one of his akuma in the races. Once this is all over, I’d like to meet this person. I want to help in anyway I can. I am so sorry for everything he’s done. For all the lives he’s destroyed. I can only hope those that had to endure this horror will forgive me.”

“Chloe…” Adrien’s voice piped in hesitantly.

“According to the records, my father’s first akuma was my mother.” Her eyes raised to find Adrien’s over Marinette’s shoulder. Her spine was still ramrod straight, but her voice was beginning to break. “He h-had told me mom was on a long business trip, and then, several months later, he announced she’d died on a private plane crash… closed casket funeral. I never questioned it.” She let out a bitter laugh that sounded like a sob. “Little did I know he had her chained to the floorboards in the hotel attic with a collar on her neck. She lasted for only five months b-before she… he got another one… and another…” Her gloved hand raised to cradle the side of Marinette’s cheek. Bee’s gaze was brilliant and shining.

“All I can say is I’m sorry - and thank you.”

Marinette nodded slowly, unable to say anything.

Queen Bee’s hand dropped and the tender moment was done. Her expression instantly turning to steel, she shifted to Adrien. “Speaking of killing disappointing fathers, I need you, Chat Noir. We lost visual on Hawkmoth several minutes ago. The squads assigned to take him out are occupied with the unexpected number of civilian assassins. He was last seen fleeing down the street towards Eglise Saint Roch - that large Catholic Church to the northwest. Several electric frequencies coming from the church have made us suspect that it might be a new headquarters. My onsite hacker is still attempting to fully connect into the transmitter there, but even without hacking, this was your specialty back in the day, Adrien. I want you to track him and find his arse. I’ll send backup as soon as I can scrounge more men from the fighting.”

“I’ll do it!” Marinette announced, lifting her chin and straightening her back similar to Bee’s stance. The forgotten gun in her right hand instantly felt heavy in her fingers.

Bee glanced at her pointedly before frowning and plugging a finger in her ear. One of the long antennas on her head flicked.

“Pollen, report.” It was several heartbeats later that Bee’s jaw twitched and her eyes blew wide open. “Track that signal!”

“What signal?” Adrien asked, but Marinette’s heart clenched and her hands flew to her mouth. She knew exactly what that was.

Bee caught Marinette’s eyes before addressing Adrien again. “My hacker picked up a downloading signal coming from the church. It’s connecting to sporadic locations throughout the city.”

“The akuma!” Marinette gasped.

“I’ll have Pollen map the signal’s location to your baton.”

Adrien frowned. “The akuma? Why would he be connecting to them? Now we know where to find them.”

“It’s the detonator!” Marinette cried, turning to him. “He can make them all self-destruct! It’s his way of starting over! Destroying the evidence!” She turned to Bee so quickly, her fringe fell into her eyes wildly. “I have to go! I have to save them!”

“It’s too dangerous for a civilian,” Bee said sharply. “I respect all that you’ve done, Ladybug, but Chat Noir was an ace squad leader back in the day. He’s trained for this.”

“Adrien is in no shape to go!”

“No, I’ll go,” he stepped forward. “Stay here, Marinette.”

“I’m not staying!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m going!”

“No way in hell!”

“You can’t make me stay!” Marinette shouted childishly and stomped up to him. Within milliseconds, they were back in each other’s faces.

“Oh, yes I can!”

“Jesus, should I just go myself?” Bee rolled her eyes incredulously.

“Chloe, I beg you. Keep her here and don’t let her out of your sight!”

“You can’t do that, Adrien! You can’t!”

“Bee, please!”

“I’m going! Don’t tell me what to do!”

“Shut up, Marinette!” Adrien roared at her and the next thing she knew his lips crushed themselves against hers. Her mind blanked, allowing him to take hold of her. He lifted his clawed hands, his right burying itself into her loose pigtails and the other wrapping around the small of her back, pulling her roughly against his body. Her breath caught tightly in her chest and her eyes went wide. His face shifted to the left and he boldly licked her closed mouth with his tongue. She was frozen, completely still with surprise.

And then she closed her eyes. She unthinkingly dropped the gun on the ground and her arms sprang up to wrap themselves around his tan neck. She returned his kiss with all the passion, anger, and love she felt for him. His kiss was exhilarating, incredibly frustrating, and terribly satisfying. She’d longed for him to kiss her. For him to feel the same way she did. He pressed her even further and she came willingly, standing on her toes to lean into him. Everything was so simple and yet so screwed up. The world was falling apart around them - and still, she twisted her tongue around his, indulging in the very essence of her hero…

Adrien Agreste…

She moved her arms off his neck and pushed lightly on his shoulders to break the kiss. His green eyes were scorching like molten lava and they flicked with a blistering intensity back to her lips. She could feel and see the deep longing in him.

“You can’t…” she couldn’t seem to catch her breath properly, “you can’t leave me behind…”

“Marinette… I have to go…” His voice was husky, his eyes still on her parted lips.

“Please, Adrien…”

His arms slid from her body. Her skin prickled with a chilling fear. Bee stepped up behind her to put a solid hand on her shoulder.

“Be careful, Chat. Even with that new suit to boost you, you’ve still lost a lot of blood. I’ll send back up as soon as I can.”

With a nod at the blonde woman, his fiery gaze flicked back to Marinette, burning and freezing her at the same time. He turned to leave-

“Wait!” she called and her hand flew to her back pocket. Pulling out her picture, she held it out for him. His eyes blown wide, his lips opening, his claws rose and he hesitantly took it from her, his fingertips brushing the back of her hand gently.

Her chin lifted. “I’m coming after you. You know that, right?”

“I would expect nothing less, my lady.” He shot her a radiant grin, his blond locks tossing, before giving her a two fingered salute and tucking her picture back into his front pocket. Zipping it up safely, he reached back and withdrew his metal baton.

Her eyes narrowed, following him as he clicked something on his weapon and was suddenly propelled into the sky - out of sight.

He thought he was leaving _her_ behind?

He must be out of his mind.


	22. Upgrades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Black Cat races and Ladybug gets a new toy

Rena Rouge boldly leaped off the roof of her bullet riddled jeep and smirked as Carapace immediately materialized in the air to catch her in his arms. His shield on his back, his ginger eyes gleaming at her from his mask underneath his green hood, he gave her butt a light squeeze.

“You’re amazing out there, Foxy.”

“Not too bad yourself, Shelly.” She flicked his hood back a bit with her pointer finger. “I’m out of ammo.”

Setting her on her feet, she tossed the gun into his hands and Nino’s expert fingers popped the massive chamber open. She picked up the M-16 rifle waiting beside the front tire and said, “Snipers are down. Most of the cops have been subdued. It’s the civilian assassins that are the trouble. My facial recognition radar is going haywire. How many rounds?”

“Got four more ready for you on the long-shot. We have six left in all. Go easy on it.”

“What about Ladybug?” She asked, catching the gun he tossed her and belting the new ammo to her waist.

“Chat got her out.”

“Good.”

“Heard anything from Bee?”

“Not yet. I’m sure she’ll update soon.”

Bracing the rifle under her arm and slinging the M-16’s straps over her shoulder, she reached out with her free hand, grabbed a fistful of his green suit, and pressed her lips tightly to his. Releasing him after a few seconds, she jumped back on the jeep with the grace of a vixen - but the bloodlust of a lioness.

Nino was frozen for a moment, just blinking.

“Dude…”

* * *

Flipping the stretched baton over his head and retracting it into a staff, Adrien landed with a gentle roll on the rooftop of Musée des Arts Décoratifs. He stood tall at the edge, his green eyes dancing to the streets below. Numerous panicked Parisians were flooding down Rue de Rivoli, blocking traffic and buses. It was mass chaos down there.

Flicking his gaze to the steeples of the Eglise Saint Roch several blocks away, his mind tried to focus on his destination, but his body was still whirling in the afterglow of kissing Marinette.

He didn't know why he kissed her. It was almost as if he’d _had_ to just to make her stop hollering at him. She was insane! She was a brat! She had to constantly be watched or she’d just throw herself into yet another death-defying situation! Messy black hair, crystal blue eyes, pink lips open in surprise - he’d saved her from the assassins only to have her scream at him for saving her life! It was so ungrateful! So… irresistibly irritating and intoxicating and incredibly beautiful and she was totally out of control! And he was just as crazy to feel this way. This was dangerous. He needed to have a clear head, cool his thoughts, calculate the danger that he faced and the lives that were at stake - but he couldn’t get that look in her eye out of his mind. That fiery burn of passion and fury that seemed to detach his circuits and leave him breathless. Her full body pressed against his, that tiny polka dot top riding higher against his claws-

God, he had to get it together. He was still too in the moment.

Shaking his head, which resembled a cat more than he cared to admit, Adrien raced on the rooftop of the museum to see the golden statue of Joan d’Arc down below in the square. Following Rue des Pyramides north would practically be a straight-shot to the church. Tossing the baton between his long fingers, he extended the smooth weapon and catapulted to Hotel Regina across the street, ignoring the series of gasps from the people below him. Landing on a manicured rooftop garden, he saluted a disturbed couple lying near the pool before flipping the new baton to toss him higher into the sky.  

Who was he to judge? Wasn’t he doing the same exact thing she’d done to him? Leaving her behind? Didn’t that make him a hypocrite?

At least he’d kissed her before he’d left.

Not that that made things better - Adrien groaned as he continued to leap over chimneys and tall, pointed rooftops. Swollen lips, narrowed eyes, he’d berated her for throwing herself into danger when, thinking back on the last twenty-four hours, he was ever bit as guilty for doing the same exact thing.

They were too similar.

Both of them were idiots.

And he’d kissed her. And she’d kissed him back.

A smile glazed his lips as he skidded to a stop on the roof, glowing green eyes focusing back on the street below. He felt the leg supports through the leather of the suit balancing him perfectly.

This _suit._ It was beyond anything he’d ever worn before. It fit perfectly, conforming his quick arms and limber legs. The thicker leather bent with his movements, strengthening and reinforcing his muscles. His wounds were being kept closed by a tight stitching on the leather - the suit acting like tight bandage. His arm and shoulder were sending small sparks of pain, but, like Bee had said, the suit was holding him up. His senses were clearer than ever.  
  
After spending a good time nagging him in the van about the scratched, tattered condition of his hearing amplifier, Chloe’s eyes had widened as he’d produced his _Cataclysm_ flask, smoke pellets, lock picks. and the lucky baton. She’d scoffed, snatching the pole out of his hand and throwing it over her shoulder before he could protest. It’d clanged next to the driver - who’d swerved the wheel in surprise.  
  
“You still have that outdated garbage baton? Let’s see if I can do better.”  
  
And Jesus, had she. Though he’d always hold a special torch for his old one, this new weapon felt almost in-tuned with his thoughts. Extending to the perfectly balanced size for a staff - even going so far as to expand into a vaulting pole. His gloved hands were tailored to grip it with ease. A call button was on the side, linked to his amplifier. Even a camera phone was embedded inside, which could be switched open with a simple flick of his finger.  
  
Letting him keep the pellets, she’d quirked an eyebrow at _Cataclysm_.

“Just make sure to not get it confused with an alcohol flask,” she’d snorted before giving him a shiny new pistol to tuck into his thick cat-tail belt.

Adrien had to admit, she’d changed a lot since the last time he’d seen her. She still held her haughty sense of self-importance, but now it was backed with the aura of someone who understood how much her decisions could cost lives.

She was different - he may even call her a bit kinder.  
  
Granted, after all these years, they’d all changed in one way or another.  
  
Except for maybe Alya. She still seemed as bloodthirsty as ever.

Twisting the new baton once more, he flew like a leaping panther across the intersection between Rue Saint-Honoré and Rue des Pyramides.

And there it was.

Eglise Saint Roch.

The three brilliant blue doors were closed - barred. The navy clock with golden numerals was poised at 2:13pm. The statues of popes and saints looked almost ghostly in the mid-afternoon light, standing like silent guarding sentients. Green eyes tossing over the uneven rooftop, he heard a beep on his baton and glanced down.

_New message: Signal track complete. Beneath the church. Be careful, Chat._

A shiver brushed down his spine.

Hawkmoth… his father… he hadn’t been face-to-face with him in almost a decade. The last time he’d seen him was at a deathly quiet family dinner the night before he’d run away. He had been a teenager back then. A simple child that only wanted freedom and a chance to make his own choices in life. He had been so preoccupied with finding Marinette that he hadn’t even thought to look at the podium, to see the thin blue eyes narrowing behind his familiar dark frames. Sure, television showed his father on the news nightly and newspapers heralded his name, but he’d never known the man people praised as The Parisian Gentleman.

The one Adrien knew from his childhood was cold. Very cold.

And now Adrien knew just how cold his father could truly be.  

But it was time to finish this once and for all.

Making the simple two meter jump between the shops to the church, he climbed easily to the largest dome and crouched to a stained-glass window. The glass was fragile.

Withdrawing his _Cataclysm_ flask, Adrien uncorked the bottle and the sharp chemical smell made him wince. Pouring a small amount on the copper seam on the side of the glass pane, he backed away in surprise as the dark liquid dripped fast and dangerous, almost eagerly eating away anything it touched. Dissolving copper, glass, and even a part of the brick into a hissing puddle of mess, Adrien corked the flask carefully - now very wary of its power - and used his flexibility to slip through the growing hole in the glass frame. He landed on all fours on the first floor railing inside the dome. His boots, though muffled, still echoed in the quiet church.

The beautiful sunburst cloud sculpture stretched high, casting the dome in tight shadows. The small window, with the triangle of the Trinity, barely gave enough light to illuminate the offering table below. Blond locks draping over his forehead, he turned up his night vision and carefully flipped over the railing to land like a shadow near the statue of Saint Barbe and her tower.

He was in, but the message had said _beneath the church_.  

What did it mean by that?  


* * *

   
Her heart thundered in her chest at the memory of his kiss. It had filled her, completed her, and had left her wanting so much more. Desperation skyrocketed inside. The spark between them was a wildfire, filling her with determination. That kiss had said so many things that words couldn’t convey.

And, because of that, she’d be damned if she let him go in alone.

Hands at her side, Marinette watched. Waited for her chance.    
  
Bee had taken her gun from her - confiscated it.

Normal people weren’t allowed to have guns. Normal people needed to sit back and let the professionals do their job.

But Marinette wasn’t a normal person.

She was Ladybug.

Bee was finally distracted. Her gloved finger plugged in one ear, her antenna twitched as she studied three different display screens inside one of the black vans. Pollen, her hacker, typed quickly at her side, the woman’s glasses reflecting streams and streams of data. All around Marinette, men and women were dragging bodies, arresting civilian assassins, continuing to hunt the ones who’d escaped.  
  
No one was looking at her. No one cared. Eyes slid over her as if she was nothing more than a lost Parisian who’d wandered in to curiously get in the way.  
  
Perfect.  
  
She walked, a sense of purpose brushing on her features to match the rest of the passing soldiers.  
  
Despite her tight pink top and her messy hair, she blended into the background. Blue eyes gliding to her destination, she approached one of the supply vans carrying cases of weaponry several meters away. Large empty cases were already ripped open on the concrete, lying spread on the ground haphazardly near the open van door in their haste to control the situation at the Pyramid.  
  
No one was there. No one was watching.  
  
Looked like her luck was still strong as ever.

Fingers crawling over case after case inside the large vehicle, they were all locked tight. A rush of frustration boiled inside as she searched for a knife, a gun - _anything_.

Her right hand suddenly landed on a large rectangle box that was tucked away against the window. A sizzle of warmth hit her fingertips as soon as she touched it. Lifting the brown box, the intricate design on the outside looked foreign.

Weird.

She glanced over her shoulder. Bee only had to turn her head to the left and she’d be spotted.  
  
Marinette made a choice.  
  
She opened the box.  
  
And quirked an eyebrow.  
  
“A… _yo-yo_ …” she murmured with a incredulous snort.    
  
Round, hard, burgundy metal. Only about eight centimeters in diameter. There were a series of black buttons on the top and sides of it. A thick metal ring was connected to sharp wire. Taking it out, she frowned. It really _was_ a yo-yo. A prototype of something maybe?

What government official had green-lit a weapon made out of a child’s toy?

Slipping the ring on her middle finger, Marinette almost screamed as the yo-yo immediately zipped straight out of her hand with a cutting metallic whizz before flicking back into her palm with a solid _smack_!  
  
“Whoa…” she breathed, glancing around if anyone noticed.  
  
Bee was motioning to one of the monitors angrily.

Still distracted. Good.

Blue eyes dancing back at the yo-yo, she could feel it vibrating as if it had a life of its own. It was eager, ready to be used, she could feel the pent up energy inside it. Pulling the yo-yo closer to her face curiously, her pinky accidentally touched a button on the side and she squealed as the yo-yo instantly sprang away from her fingertips. She grabbed the string on reflex, but it twisted around her hand at breakneck speed, almost like a shield. Gasping, she reflexively flicked her wrist and the yoyo slipped back into her hand obediently.  
  
It waited - practically humming with delight.  
  
Okay, still weird, and not quite what she was looking for, but-

A sly smile slipped on her lips. Her blue eyes sharpened, her fingers clasped comfortably over the yo-yo, and she could feel it’s excitement spreading over her.  
  
A potentially haunted child’s toy or something _very_ not legal now in her possession, Marinette turned her back to the van, raced around the soldiers, and hurried into the crowded street.

That cat thought he was the only one trained to fight?

Time to save his ass _and_ prove him wrong at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eglise Saint Roch is an actual church in Paris - an eight minute walk from Le Louvre. I recommend you google it because it's BEAUTIFUL (and on my bucket list).


	23. Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Butterfly waits and the true hero is revealed

The thick Master’s Controller rested on one of the cots near him, the detonator switch on the left blinking a light orange on the stone wall. It was still downloading, gathering all the locations of the akuma scattered throughout Paris - connecting to them.

His spine straight, he stared at the famous statue, which had been moved from one of the chapels to this chamber below the church. She held an ancient beauty, her stone gown, once a brilliant red, had faded with the wear of time to a lovely pink. The gentle clasp of her fingers to her chest, her eyes, cast to the heavens, looked serene - devoted. He drank in the ethereal look of admiration on her pale features.

It was intoxicating.

Rita of Cascia, the Patron Saint of the Abused.

She was perfect, standing at the back of the long dark chamber, a generous spotlight brightening her: the focal point of his new paradise. She would face them - the line of numerous empty beds on either side of the room spanning the length of the church, electrical equipment strapped to each one - waiting. It was dark, quiet, and still - a coldness only the French catacombs, just a few meters down, could produce. A spiral metal staircase swung down steeply from the far side of the room - the entrance hidden right below the Nativity scene at the back of the church.  

Ah, Eglise Saint Roch: the church twisted with glorious symbolism. Saint Roch, a rich son of a Governor, ran away from his luxurious lifestyle to spend his entire life among the sick victims of the plague. He even contracted the disease himself, but managed, by miracle, to recover. The people followed him. Worshiped him. The spirit of the people, always represented by a dog sitting by his side with bread it its mouth, looked at him with utter devotion. He’d cleaned the city and they loved him for it.

Gabriel had been torn down as well. His wife, leaving him. His sons, abandoned him. Gabriel had acutely felt the bitterness, the loneliness, the sting of the unloved. And he had cleaned the city - and was worshiped for it. He had found a way to guarantee no one would ever leave him ever again. The Masters were his to control. Paris loved him. On that small pedestal, Gabriel knew he was meant for greatness, to build an empire of his own. It was a shame his cover as mayor had been blown, but with this new start, he could spread his control further as his true self. Not as Gabriel Agreste, beloved Parisian Gentleman, but as the man he knew he was on the inside:

Hawkmoth.

Gabriel was gone. Hawkmoth was stepping from the shadows, born. And he had stretched his hand, much like Saint Roch to the dog at his side, and buyers for his new akuma spread as far as Russia, The United States, and China. It was only a matter of time.

The Master Controller blinked on - a continuing countdown to his rise.

What a perfect place this was.  

“Monsieur Agreste, your suit,” the blank voice of his female akuma rang behind his head and he turned with a tight smile to accept the purple and silver fabric.

“Grab one of the semis and stand guard over the staircase,” he commanded kindly before reaching to remove his thick striped cravat. “Can’t have anything keeping Hawkmoth’s debut. Don’t you agree, my dear?”

She remained silent and stoic, only turning on foot to follow his orders.

He sighed. No matter. The new collars would change that feature. Though testing the level of individuality in the collar’s function was a gamble, giving the akuma some form of emotion was a price he was willing to pay. The old batch was trash. Passionless. No more than puppets. This new set of akuma would be devoted - serve him and their Masters as beautifully as Saint Roch. They would look at him with the eyes of Rita of Cascia.

Lacing up the suit, he pulled the silver mask over his head and a twisted smile stretched on his face. His sky eyes flicked back to Rita and he could see her now: Ladybug. Her cerulean gaze shimmering, her hands clasped against her lovely chest, looking at him as he deserved to be looked at: like God.

He had seen her in the crowd. Had seen her slipped forward from the shadows. Jesus, she was beautiful, her figure lithe and young. Everything had almost been too easy.

But then the tide had shifted. He’d watched from the stage, awestrucked, as a blond man had suddenly jump from the skies to save her. His form, powerful. His reflexes almost inhuman. He was quick - too quick - and she was gone. Out of his grasp yet again.

Hawkmoth’s eyes moved to the blinking Controller and his heels clacked in the quiet chamber. Picking up the device, he strapped it to his right arm.

He turned his back on Rita to walk down the long chamber. The female akuma had moved to the stairs now, her hands steady on the heavy gun, pointing the barrel at the small doorway at the top.

“Protect me with no matter what,” he ordered her quietly.

“Yes, Hawkmoth," she said softly.

Her gaze whisked furtively over her shoulder to settle on the blinking switch before settling back to the spiral stairs.  


* * *

  
There was someone inside the church with him.

He could sense it before his heightened hearing and sight told him - like a phantom shivering down his spine.

Noises outside on the street interrupted his amplifier and Adrien tuned the bud in his ear, localizing the individual sound-waves around him. Twitching the dial three degrees, he instantly caught the shuffling of soft shoes coming around the left side. Adrien, his heart thumping, slipped in the shadows, trusting his cat suit to blend him. Eyes flicking from side to side, he reached up to click off his sclera’s green light.

He froze.

Waiting.

Listening.

Heavy breathing, almost a grunting - where was it coming from? Adrien’s sharp gaze flicked from marble statue to marble statue.

And then he saw him.

Hunkering, large as a gorilla and almost as hairy, the man lumbered out of a chapel to head down the rows of stacked brown pews - making his way towards the blue front doors. His feet shuffled, tripping up on each other almost comically. Adrien’s eyes narrowed - there was something off about him. A flicker of warning kicked into gear at the back of his mind.  

Adrien acted before he could overthink. Slinking out of the shadows around the side of the dome and slipping in and out of the darkness like a prowling panther, he followed the heavy-sized man as he made his maladroit strut around the back.  

 _Beneath the church_.

His father was somewhere beneath him.

That meant there had to be an entrance somewhere. But where?

A clawed hand flicking to the back of his belt, Adrien withdrew his new gun and ducked behind a large pillar to unclick the safety. Fingers touching the pellets at his waist, he considered throwing one. A smoke screen would be perfect to close in the space and incapacitate the huge man.

He could get him to talk. Or search him for clues. A sign.

_Anything._

Withdrawing the pellet, he flicked on the dial of his sclera while tossing the smoke bomb towards the man’s lumbering back. The smoke burst as soon as it hit at his feet, instantly covering the entire right chapel in a tight fog. Adrien’s vision was clear and he slipped up like a deathly shadow.

He thrust the handle of his pistol into the gorilla’s wide nose, cracking it audibly. Stepping on his massive foot, the blond barreled into him with his shoulder and he was knocked off-balance - large body tossing into the brown pews.  

“Where is he?” Adrien snarled, pointing the gun at the large man. His shoulder was beginning to throb with pain, his barely closed wound tearing open.

No answer. The lumbering man was stumbling to his feet.

“Stay where you are!” A weird feeling of something not right tossed down his spine. The giant was almost robotic with his movements, as if pulled by marionette’s strings-

“Akuma…” he breathed, green eyes landing on the navy scarf around the man’s neck, “Shit… look, man. I don’t want to hurt you…”

The smoke was clearing and thin eyes from a thick face flicked to him emotionlessly. Adrien stumbled back just as a large hand swung to grab him. Ducking the punch, the cat man balled up his fist and slammed it into the man’s solar plexus. The breath barely escaped the akuma’s lips. A warning flickered in Adrien’s head before an elbow, feeling akin to concrete steel, crashed against his temple and sent him sprawling into a marble bust. Slamming on the tile floor with the wind knocked out of his lungs, Adrien knew he needed to run, move, back away - _something._ The ceiling spun, his arm and shoulder felt like raw agony.

He couldn’t move.

And it was too late.

Heavy footsteps coming close, he felt thick fingers moist with clammy sweat wrap around his neck. A choking gasp, the gun flipped out of his grip. His body hung in the air, his feet dangling like a weightless doll. Eyes whirling, Adrien’s fingers jumped to the hand squeezing hard on his windpipe. Digging his claws into the akuma’s skin, he ripped - blood splattering on the floor. His lungs blazed, his throat screamed.

With one hand still on the grip at his neck, Adrien reached back for the _Cataclysm_ flask and he twisted it open with one finger.

The metal screw cap bouncing to the ground, Adrien flung the contents of the flask straight in the akuma’s face and a sharp sizzle instantly reacted. The terrible meaty smell of burnt flesh and metal soured the air. Some of the liquid landed on the ground, splashing on his dropped pistol.

The grip on his throat remained - tightened.

He swung the flask again - but it was empty, the entire contents eating away at the mindless slave who could feel no pain.

A fog was in his eyes, spreading down to his struggling limbs.

It was growing cold, the tight chill gripping him. The world seemed to slow - his thoughts, once racing from blind panic, were beginning settled into a strange kind of calm.

Like an angel to greet him, she appeared and a small heat igniting inside him to push back the cold. She was radiant, determined, and full of fire. Her messy raven hair and iridescent eyes, a kaleidoscopic array of blues, tossing with her passion, her rage.

 _“So, what are you saying, then?”_ Her words brushed forward as if she was here now, asking the question. He could even see the confrontational yet nervous twist on her pink lips, which had held him bewitched more times than he could count by this point. _“Do I mean more to you?”_

He should have answered her when he could.

She deserved to know.

_“Well, what is it?”_

He loved her.

He _loved_ her.  

Damn. He should have at least told her that much. He’d had his chance and he blew it.

How uncool.

 _“You can’t…_ _you can’t leave me behind…”_

But he had.

_“I’m coming after you. You know that, right?”_

Something slammed hard into splitting wood, something exploded with a burning heat, and brilliant light instantly flooded into the church. Adrien was barely aware, his sight washed in bright white.

The akuma thick fingers left his throat, whisked away by a whipping wind and a fast whirring noise.

Landing hard on his hands and knees, the blond coughed and retched - his windpipe and lungs searing with fire. Tears stained his eyes, racing down his domino mask. He stretched for a breath, but it was hard - so hard. His crushed throat roared with agony. He sucked in air and it hurt. He sucked in more and it hurt even worse. Slowly, ever so slowly, his sense of awareness returned. And he looked up with wavering vision.

The afternoon sunlight spilling past the shattered blue door cast her face in shadow. Her soft black hair, free from the pigtails, brushed over her shoulders as she gripped a thick string tightly in her fingers. She was panting, her legs braced and powerful.

_Ladybug..._

“Adrien!”

God, had her voice always been that beautiful?

She rushed forward to him. Kneeling, her hands found the sides of his jaw.

“Your face,” Marinette whispered, turning his head gently to look at his temple. “It’s so bloody. Are you okay?”

“I-I,” he coughed hoarsely, his voice rasping out. “I’ll l-live.”

His green eyes rolled to the bound akuma lying only a half meter away. He was struggling, his massive muscles pulling on a sharp tight string tangled around his body. A dark red sphere, resembling a yoyo, was hooked on itself - keeping him trapped. His small eyes screwed shut, his mouth twisted, Adrien could see layers of cooked flesh peeling off the side of his left jaw from _Cataclysm_. A twist of guilt tossed inside as the liquid ate away the fragile scarf at his thick neck - continuing to devour the collar underneath his chin.

“What happened to him?” she said through a tight breath.

“This.” Unable to explain further, he simply held up the flask for her to see. “How did you get in here? That explosion-”

“I found, uh, this yo-yo thing?” She lifted her hand for him to see the metal ring on her middle finger, which was attached the tight metal string. “I was looking for a weapon since Bee took my gun, but I found this instead and I ran all the way here as soon as I could escape, but couldn’t figure out how to get into the church with the doors barred, so I just started pressing all the buttons on the yo-yo and it flew out of my hands and smashed itself into the door and the top of it opened up and exploded and I have no idea what I did, but I think I’m in love with this thing.”

Her words stringed in a rush from her lips and the pleased blush on her face made him wheeze a laugh. Arms lifting, he winced at the pain in his joints and forearm, but pulled her into a tight hug. Her hands immediately returned the embrace, her cheek resting against his chest. His fingers drifted to the back of her head, her silky tangled hair falling through his claws.  

“Thank you,” he whispered, hoarsely. “You saved my life.”

“S-Save…”

They both jumped. Warm hands releasing him, Marinette scooted to the akuma with wide blue eyes.

“Save…”

“Save?” she whispered.

The large man suddenly let out an ear blistering shriek, jerking violently against the yo-yo’s wires.

She gasped and immediately pulled back the hand with the metal ring on it. The strings whirled to life, obediently unwrapping itself from him. The yo-yo tossed back into her hand and, through Adrien’s amplifier, he could hear it humming softly.

With his limbs free, the akuma’s hands fumbled uselessly at the collar around his bulging neck. The black wires leading down his shirt were sizzling as _Cataclysm_ continued to drip from his mutilated face to the thick buckle. It was eating, blue and red copper wires smoking in a hot dripping mess down the man’s skin. Marinette’s hands hovered over him with indecision and horror as the collar blistered the akuma’s flesh, branding him in rivers of plastic and metal. His massive fingers clawing at the raw flesh and molten metal, _Cataclysm_ spread to his hands as well.

“Save… us…”  his voice, low and panicked, rang in the empty church. He wept, his dark eyes streaming with tears of agony and fear. “You must save… the detonator… Hawkmoth…”

“Where is he?” Marinette asked - her voice shaking but the determination in her eyes practically intoxicating.

“Underneath…” With a limp half-eaten hand, the gorilla patted the front of his brown jacket twice. There was a white-hot fear, but also a flicker of relief brushing over the man’s expression as he watched Marinette open his coat to search his lining pocket. She fished out a simple silver key and held it to his eyes. He nodded shortly with a twisted cry escaping his thick lips. “Key… clouds… stairs underneath… statue… he has… controller…”

“A Master’s Controller,” she whispered with a tight realization. “ _That’s_ how he’s doing this.”

“A Master’s Controller?” Adrien rasped out.

“It’s a remote control that can connect to akuma.”  

His massive body was shaking, his breathing was coming in short gasps. “Am I… am I… going to die…? I don’t… pl-please…”  

They watched, speechless, as the collar melted away, the wires at the back of his head beginning to dissolve. Marinette placed a hand on the akuma’s large bicep as if to help or comfort - she wasn’t sure which, but the life was already slipping.

“Will the collar explode?” Adrien asked softly, his eyes watching the light fade from the giant’s eyes. The large head tilted to stare at heaven painted on the ceiling. The collar continued to hiss, but there was no explosion. Reaching down, she closed the man’s eyelids.

“No. The bomb was ate up by whatever that liquid was.”

“I’m sorry, Marinette.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“I know. It’s not your fault.” She climbed to her feet. The yo-yo thrummed in her fingertips. Her back and shoulders were straight. Turning, she held her hand out to him and he stared in awe at her.

He had pushed her behind him. Kept her from danger. Fought with her and yelled at her and kissed her desperately, he could barely wait to do it again- but… there was something different now. Something that even the afternoon sun seemed to understand as it shined its light only on her.

She was the one who saved him this time.

She was the hero. _His_ hero.

He took her hand, shambling on weak legs, and it was warm. Steady.

Strong.

“I think it’s high time we take care of whose fault this really is.”

Lacing their fingers together, he limped with her as they walked side-by-side down the church to the beautiful cloud sculpture within the chapel dome.

“I can’t agree more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The statue of Rita is in the church and worth a google as well as the cloud sculpture over the Nativity scene.   
> Also the church is a 7 minute walk from Le Louvre. Running, I'd estimate probably 5 minutes?  
> 


	24. Chamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug has a plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: heavy violence in this chapter and the next.  
> A special THANK YOU to [TOG84](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TOG84/pseuds/TOG84) for giving this a look over!

Sabrina loved her job. Really.

She did.

She loved it when Queen Bee asked her to make sure her paperwork was in check, or her gloves were mended, or even when the blood got out of her bee suit juuust right.

But this. This made Sabrina not love her job.

The box… the one that she was _supposed_ to watch over for Queen-

It was empty.

“Oh, no.” Her shell-shocked eyes, wide behind her red framed glasses, took in the black-velvet imprinted box and her mind was in a nightmare haze.

It had been there earlier. Sabrina had made sure of it. This thing was one of a kind. Specially commissioned. It hadn’t even had a proper test run yet in the field. It was worth a small fortune. Sabrina was pretty sure her life didn’t even cover the cost of the small metal ring attached to it.

The electronic pad - which she had been using to calculate all of their used supplies - dropped with a bouncing crash from her arms to the concrete ground and stayed there - forgotten.

“O-Oh, no,” Sabrina repeated, her voice a hesitant mumble. She hesitantly picked up the box as if it was her ticket to her coffin and turned on toe to face her ultimate doom. She walked as one condemned: the executioner standing unaware only a few meters away, blonde hair swinging and orders flying off her lips like verbal bullets.

“-four and squad five will keep apprehending the assassins. I want a body count in the next five minutes.” Queen was turning to another soldier instantly. “You! What’s the sniper situation?”

“All clear.”

“There are reporters everywhere. It is now your job to get them the fuck out of here.”

“Yes, Squad Leader.”

“Um, Queen Bee?” Sabrina’s thin voice piped in as she neared as close as she dared - but her voice was lost in the wake of Bee yelling, “Get me Alya and Nino Lahiffe! We are going after Chat Noir to Eglise Saint Roch-”

Another black-cladded soldier raced up before Sabrina could speak up again. “Ma’am, there’s a report of three more assassins who might have escaped-”

“Then track them down!” Queen Bee snarled as the man bowed swiftly and ran off. “God, it’s like I have to do everything around here!”

“Bee?” Sabrina tried again, but was ignored.

“How long on the signal, Pollen?” Bee turned, her hair flopping over one shoulder as she looked over the hacker’s head at the blinking computer screens.

“Gimme ten more minutes.”

“You get five!”

“But Bee-”

“No excuses, Pollen! You are the best of the best and I need you to prove it. Your brother Plagg would have had this hacked in even less time. Get it done or I will find myself another hacker-”

“ _Chloe_!” Sabrina shrieked, and all around her everyone stopped. Even Bee, her head turning ever so slowly to her, was an array of tense irritation. But once her eyes flicked to Sabrina’s, her face lit up.

“Oh, my God! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Yes, but-”

“I’m going to the Eglise Saint Roch and I need the thing.”

“The thing…?” Sabrina repeated weakly.

“Yes! The thing! My newly commissioned, state of the art weapon! I have to show that fox who’s the real badass around here-”

“So, you see… this is what I was trying to tell you…” Sabrina seemed to shrink as she held the empty box to Bee’s face. “It’s… empty?”

Her mouth opened slightly lopsided. Her eyes widened, rivalling a monster from a horror movie. Her face seemed to twist into a ugly state of horrifying disbelief.

“ _Where. Is. Ladybug_?” The voice was soft - so dangerously soft. Her gaze swiveled from one face to the next, the fresh prickles of fear rushing down each of their spines.

There was no sign of raven hair, pink top, or red leather pants.

She was gone.

It was said Chloe’s scream could be heard all the way from the Eiffel Tower.

* * *

  
The explosion rocked his chamber, rattling the electrical equipment against the walls and causing dust to rain down from the ceiling. Blue eyes wide, his hand flicked to the rapidly blinking switch on his arm. It was still loading.

He was running out of time. They’d found him already.

“They’re here…” he hissed, “get ready. As soon as that door opens, you will open fire on whatever comes through it.”

“Yes, Hawkmoth,” the woman’s voice rang. Her right shoulder twitched, but the gun was steady in her hands, the delicate finger obediently braced on the trigger.

It was breathless quiet. Hawkmoth’s eyes slipped from the top of the spiral stairs to the flickering switch on his arm.

Any minute… Any minute now…

* * *

  
Crouched before the marble slab with the Nativity scene above them, Marinette’s fingers ghosted over the sides and bottom of cold stone before finding a small jagged hole etched in on the far left side. Kneeling before the keyhole, Adrien joined her side shakily, his breath coming in short raspy gasps. He looked terrible, the blood from his head dripping down his cheek, trailing into the collar of his new suit. His throat was rimmed red, the inevitable bruises already showing.

“I’m going first,” she told him, placing a hand on his chest to hold him back. His mouth opened, but she continued briskly, “You are in no shape to charge inside, super spy. Let me handle it. I’ll do what I can to keep him distracted. I’m leaving it up to you to take his controller, okay. It’ll be strapped on his arm. That’s the detonator.”

She noticed his shoulders stiffen and his expression grow pained.

“Marinette…” Her stomach hitched at the nervousness that suddenly spilled from his green eyes.

“It’s okay, Adrien. I’ll be right there. Your father-”

“It’s not that…” His gaze was growing hot, quickly coaxing that coiling tightness inside her. “If you… If I-”

Grabbing his collar, she dragged him close, pressing her lips to his tightly. His hands instantly leaped to hold the sides of her face. The fissure of pleasure rushed through her once more, igniting and perfect.

It was short.

He broke the kiss this time, claws lost in her hair.

Foreheads pressed, eyes closed.

It felt too much like a goodbye.

Letting him go and grasping the yo-yo steadily in her fingers, she twisted in the silver key in the etched marble and there was a tiny click. A seam she didn’t notice gave way and the entire left side popped open only a few centimeters. It was dark, but there was a small hint of light past the small door.

The yo-yo thrummed like her heart. Suddenly, she reached over to Adrien’s belt. He let out a weird gasp as she plucked off a smoke pellet at his thin waist. Eyes locked on his handsome face, his green pupils were blown wide.

“On three.”

He nodded.

“One… two…”

Wrenching the door open and lobbing the pellet at the same time, it burst just as thundering blasts from a gun snapped into the air. Several slugs slinging around her, the yo-yo leaped from her hand without her telling it to and latched onto something inside the room. Marinette almost screamed as the string tightened and she was suddenly yanked off her feet and pulled through the door.

His horrified gasp, his clawed fingers grazing her ankle, she was tossed over the railing of a spiral staircase and flipped near a stone column several meters away from a long set of beds. Sliding on dirty tile with her legs braced, the yo-yo glided back into her hand. The slugs were turning on her now. Her pinky pressing the side button, she turned to the gunman as the yo-yo instantly tossed itself into the spinning shield, effectively deflecting all the bullets aimed her way. A strangled laugh escaped her lips as she knelt behind it - both from raw relief and awe.

_Damn, this thing was cool!_

“Stop!” A hard voice barked, and the bullets immediately ceased.

She could see it. She took it all in within a moment’s breath. The empty cots. The blinking electrical equipment. She kept the yo-yo spinning, a shield for what she was about to face. The smoke from the pellet was still trapped on the stairs, but all attention had gone to her.

And she needed to keep it that way.

Marinette’s sharp gaze burned on the blank face of a beautiful woman holding a large gun and then moved to-

“Ladybug…”

The voice was disgustingly familiar. Not the polite gentleness she’d heard on the stage, but deeper, lower, and heavy. He stepped forward and she straightened to her full height. His purple suit, the silver mask that covered his features - he was playing the villain card well.

A shadow of a figure in ebony whisked through the smoke behind their backs, a belted tail flipping like a ghost.

Time to play decoy.

“Gabriel Agreste.” Her tone ripped with disgust. “It’s about time we meet face to face.”

“Quite.” He seemed terribly amused with himself, his sky eyes glowing behind the silver mask. “I’ve been expecting you, and please, call me Hawkmoth.”

“I prefer ‘six feet under’,” Marinette snarled. Her blue eyes dipped to the controller on his arm.

He laughed. Loudly. The sound of it bouncing off the empty stone walls.

“I hoped you’d come. Saves me the trouble of hunting you down. I’ve had several _generous_ offers for you. So far, Russia is winning but I think United States will pull through on the akuma sale at the last minute-”

“Too bad you’re going down. The French Government has all your files. There’s nowhere to hide.”

The shadows near the stairwell shifted. Adrien…

“Ah, see, that’s where you are mistaken. My reach has spread further than you could ever imagine. The new collars are on their way. Manufactured from all around the world.”

“The French Government-”

“Has more spies than ever before inside it!” He laughed. “You think you can track everyone? They’re everywhere - all around us. Just waiting to bring the world crashing to its knees!”

“How can you do this? How can you live with the thousands of lives you’ve destroyed? The lives you’re continuing to destroy? You’ve kidnapped! Murdered! _Enslaved!_ And you’re planning it again, aren’t you!? That’s what that controller is for! How can you _live_ with yourself?” Marinette demanded, half keeping him talking and half truly needing to know. She kept her eyes tightly on Hawkmoth’s thin frame, refusing to glance at the black whisper of Adrien approaching from behind.

“You’re clever. Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve evaded me for so long-”

“Cut the shit and answer the _goddamn_ question, Hawkmoth!” she snarled, taking a step forward. The akuma moved as if to stand in front of him, but he brushed her away with a short toss of his head.

“You want to know why? I had a wife and two sons,” Hawkmoth said - all expression suddenly wiping his face. She saw Adrien’s form stop short - only a few meters behind Hawkmoth’s back. Green eyes wide, he looked frozen - his face pale and his back slouched.

Watching his black claws drop to his side, she willed him to keep going. To follow the plan.

But he was locked. Unmoving. Shock spilling from his eyes.

_No! Get the controller!_

Hawkmoth was distracted, his mouth screwed with the bitterness of the past. “Did you know that, Ladybug? I had a family once.”

“ _Fuck you,_ ” she hissed. Her anger spiked high, frothing inside her. Her voice trembled against her will. A hard laugh escaped her throat and the yo-yo seemed to spin even faster, drinking in her rage. “You lost your family? I had a mother and a father who died to save me from becoming one of your slaves! I had a mentor and a grandmother who were murdered by the assassin you sent after me! I’ve had a dear one tortured by Andre Bourgeois! I’ve had… someone I have come to care for a great deal wounded and bleeding out with bullets aimed for me!”  

Adrien’s eyes flicked back into hers and she felt hope. She willed her eyes to never leave Hawkmoth, but she screamed with her mind.

_Get the controller, Adrien! Come on!_

He seemed to snap out of it, his green gaze blinking. As he slipped another step forward, she kept going.

Kept distracting…

“ _You had a wife and two sons_? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?! What is that supposed to justify?! Look what you’ve become! Look at who you are!”

And Adrien struck.

Claws whipping through the air, the straps holding the controller sliced off his father’s arm and crimson liquid splashed on the ground. Hawkmoth roared in pain as her cat grabbed for the controller.

But the akuma was prepared.

She turned and fired at him with the gun. Adrien fell back with a cry of pain as the akuma ran to stand guard over the fallen controller. Marinette sent the yo-yo forward, slinging it around the gun, and whipping it out of the akuma’s hands. It flew through the length of the chamber and clattered near a highlighted statue.

“Get the controller!” Hawkmoth shrieked, racing to get the gun - but Marinette was ready. Slipping her hand to the left, the yo-yo followed her wishes, whirling immediately around Hawkmoth’s body, trapping his arms and legs. He crumbled to the ground, tangled in relentless wire. The akuma picked up the detonator at her feet, her thin hands holding it gently.

“Adrien!” Marinette called, panic spiking in her echoed voice. She looked back - searching the shadows desperately for a hint of stirring black. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… I’m okay…” he grunted back, an outline shifting somewhere near the bottom of the stairs. “The suit caught the bullets. Or most of them-”

“Adrien…?”

Everyone stopped. Even the akuma’s head tilted with a shine of mild interest.

“Your voice…” Hawkmoth gasped, struggling in the yo-yo’s strings. His blue eyes turned towards the stairs. “ _Adrien…_ Where…? _Where?”_

“Here… _Father…”_ The dark snarl in his voice rivalled Hawkmoth’s tone. Blond emerging from the darkness, Marinette held her breath at the way his feet staggered across the stone. Blood dripping off his claws, his suit was punctured with little holes.

His green eyes were clenched in agony, but his lips twisted in a sharp disgust.

“I’m right here.”


	25. Detonate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the race ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now - we finish this  
> Trigger warning for heavy violence

Seventy-one percent.

The frequency changed again. Pollen snagged it before it could try to escape her.

Seventy-two percent.

She’d seen something like this before. Her eyes slipping from screen to screen behind her glasses, she coded, re-coded, and then punched in the bypass key she’d discovered through the files. Her fingers worked like weapons, slashing through data to catch yet another connection in the signal.

Seventy-three percent.

Plagg would have been faster at this. Bee had said as much. Pollen drove that thought out of her head as she caught yet another line.

Seventy-four percent.

This was _her_ job now. She’d decided to follow her brother’s footsteps. This was her choice.

And she had to be better. _She had to be._

The frequency switched once more and she slipped forward like a striking snake to take it down.

Seventy-five percent.

Bee had left, her voice distracting enough with yelling about some missing yo-yo, and Pollen was alone now - typing and fighting. Sneaking in and striking down the enemy.

 _“Better than Plagg,”_ she whispered, firing another strike. “ _I’m better than Plagg. I’ll make you proud, brother… by being better…”_

Seventy-six percent… Seventy-seven percent… Seventy-eight percent…  


* * *

  
His legs hurt. His arms quaked. His head rammed against his skull. He knew he’d broken a rib - wasn’t quite sure which one yet. The bullets had hit him with bruising force, but the suit had saved his life. He felt a flicker of familiar agony on his arm. He could feel the suit filling up with warm blood.

So much for holding him together.

The akuma stood silently only a few steps away. Her eyes had drifted unfocused to the controller in her arms.

“Adrien…” his father continued, chin trembling against the ground. “Why are… why are you-?”

“He’s with me,” Marinette spoke up sharply. She pulled the yo-yo’s strings and his father groaned as the wire cut tight on his suit. “He saved my life from your assassins. He’s been by my side ever since you started hunting me. He is the reason you couldn’t catch me. Your own _son_ has been fighting to bring you down.”

The laugh was loud and unexpected, the walls compacting it, ringing the cool stones. His father stared at him, sky blue wild with delight. Out of the corner of his eye, Adrien saw Marinette yank the string even harder. Another grunt escaped his father’s lips, but it was followed by more hysterics.

“It’s over,” Adrien called through the thundering peals of cackling. “You lost. Give us the controller.”

“Akuma, self destruct!” The words flipped so easily off his lips, Adrien felt his body freeze with horror.

“Self destruct sequence activated,” the woman’s monotone voice followed and her collar lit up brightly. “Ten… nine… eight…”

“No!” Marinette cried. “Stop!”

“Six… five… four…”

“STOP!”

“Akuma, pause self destruct.” His father called.

“Pausing self destruct sequence.” Her collar continued to blink - waiting.

Green eyes tossing into Marinette’s, the look of dread on her face twisted his stomach.

How could he do this…? How could his own flesh and blood have mangled into this _monster?_

His father grinned from the floor, his triumph palpable. “Thank you, my dear. You just proved me right.”

Marinette turned to him, her shoulders were trembling. “What are you talking about?”

“Choices!” The trapped man said brightly, his eyes gleaming at her like a snake. “If this woman died, you’d win. You’d have the controller and I’d be done. But you couldn’t do it, could you, _Ladybug_? You couldn’t sacrifice an innocent life. You had a chance to win this, but your own limitations keep holding you back.”

“Human decency is a flaw!?” She snarled.

“Of course. Empathy is certainly a drive that effects free will. So is love, hate - any emotion really. Take that away and what do you get?”

“Mindless slaves!” Adrien barked.

“And what’s better? But in the meantime, there are riots, school shootings, revolutions, terrorists. You have chaos. This is what is driving our world to the brink of annihilation. The masses rising in panic, killing each other for the sake of what they think is right! And you’re just like them, son… you and your brother - and your _mother_.”

“Don’t you dare talk about them like that!” Adrien roared. “You are the one who drove us away! You are the only one at fault!”

His father’s smile weakened and his voice bit hard. “I knew you wouldn’t understand, son. Your sense of self-importance has been inflated with the rest of them. You want this, you want that, you want and you want and you’ll eventually do whatever is necessary to take it. It is this mindset that is tearing society apart. It is these freedoms that are destroying the very fabric of your precious governments. Corruption is bred from the people.”

“And taking free will away creates peace?” Adrien fired off.

“Naturally,” his father sighed. “I realized this long ago - even before Emilie left or you and your brother decided to run off to join the delusional. The world is burning under the ramblings of the masses. Freedom of speech, religion, bi-partisan politics - something needed to happen. It needed change. Someone to stand up and rein in the maelstrom of violence. So, I did something about it.”

“Kidnapping children-”

“Children who would grow up to spout the poison that’s breeding in this society! Children who would grow up with savage ideals! That their opinions are the one true way this world should be run!”

“How are you any different!?” Adrien roared.

“How many have _you_ killed, son!? How many lives have you taken for your precious government!?”

“I am not your son!”

“No,” Hawkmoth growled, and his face twisted into something darker. “No, you are just like the rest of them - Akuma, grab him! Activate self destruct!”

“Re-activating - three…”

“Adrien!” Marinette called, her yo-yo zipping off Hawkmoth’s body to fling towards him.

It was slow motion.

He wanted to back away.

He wasn’t fast enough.

His body was already at its limit.

Hawkmoth had jumped to his feet, rushing towards the statue - where the gun had landed.

The woman’s collar was glowing.

Marinette’s yo-yo tossed around the akuma’s thin frame just as her hand reached for his arm and the woman was yanked off her feet before she could grab him. The controller fell to the ground. His green eyes watched in disbelief as the akuma flew down the chamber - Marinette’s entire strength throwing her away from him.

The explosion knocked him into the air and he landed hard on his back, sliding painfully to the spiral staircase. The heat of it brushed over his cheeks - washing him in the stench of iron and dust. He coughed, he choked.

His eyes swam.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

 _Marinette!_ His thoughts screamed. _Marinette was closer to the explosion! Where is she?_

“Mar… Mari…” Neck turning on the ground, he searched through the dust and creeping fog. His mask, cracked down the middle, was a useless burden now. Reaching up, he ripped it off his face, his eyes blinking in the altered lowlight. The floor spun, but he forced himself to sit up - his body hollering in protest.

He’d crawl to her if he had to. He just had to find her.

_Where was she?_

_Where?_

_WHERE?_

“Your Ladybug made a choice, Adrien. You see now why I am who I am. Needless sacrifices all for their ideals. All for what they believe is right or wrong. So much barbarity that could have been avoided. She made a choice to save your life. You should be grateful her misguided empathy was in your favor.”

The voice was like cold ice. It shivered down to his very core.   

“ _Where-_ ”

A figure emerged in the clearing dust, the large gun pointing at a petite raven-haired lying on the ground. A cry spilled from Adrien’s lips. Marinette was still, her blue eyes closed. The yo-yo curled uselessly in her unmoving hand. A trail of blood wept down the side of her open lips. On his hands and knees, Adrien blinked through his haze - his heart racing so hard it was puncturing his lungs.

“N-No…” The sob was dry and cracked. “Mar-Marinette…”

Hawkmoth’s mask had been torn, white-blond hair spilling over the sides of his thin face. His lavender suit was ripped, blackened on his back and shoulders. He was panting, the gun trembling in his hands.

But he was triumphant, the smile crookedly large on his lips.

“I always knew she was different from the rest. Even when racing in my games, she was marvelous. A woman of power. Ladybug is a perfect name for her. Unbridled bravery mixed with feminine fatale. She will make a powerful akuma.”

Despite the pain, the panic, the fear - his hands clenched with a glimmer of hope. “She is-!”

“Still alive, yes.” His father finished for him. “Unless you decide she should die right here. Now, be a good boy and hand me that controller, Adrien.”

She wouldn’t want him to. She’d want him to fight. To find a way to stop his father at all costs. She’d want to die for the sake of everyone. But Adrien’s eyes were on her scratched face, the trickle of blood staining her pure skin.

The illuminated statue at the back had fallen forward, the head of it broken on the ground. Many of the beds had hit the electrical equipment around the room, scattering large numbers of plastic and metal wiring. Adrien’s eyes searched desperately through the debris.

There had to be some way… some way out of this…

But the gun was still at her head. His father still wore the grin of a conqueror: one who knew he was going to win no matter what happened.  

So. Adrien used the stairs to help him to his feet. He shambled the few meters to the controller that was no longer blinking. He almost stumbled to his knees as he bent to pick it up.  

The switch was a steady orange - charged and ready.

“Ah, I see it’s finally done downloading. Perfect timing.” The terrible delight in his father’s voice made him sick.

He couldn’t win… Hawkmoth _couldn’t be allowed to win…_

But Adrien’s body betrayed his rationality, ignored every single thought screaming at him to stop. Think of something else. _Anything else._

But he had to save her…

Marinette had to stay alive…  

And this was the only way…

He was her hero after all.

“That’s a good boy. Mind your Father.”

Hawkmoth mocked him and it burned - hard, dark, and bitter. Adrien’s feet dragging, he neared the monster he’d once called ‘father’ with the controller carefully cradled to his heaving chest. Hawkmoth snatched the device as soon as he was close enough and his foot kicked Adrien heavily in the sternum. He fell to the ground without a fight - his head clacking on the ground. His already broken rib was searing in agony and he choked tightly - tasting iron.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll get you fixed up in no time. You’ll be my personal akuma, son. You’ll guard me to the end of my days and we’ll never be apart. Never again.” He could barely see the manicale grin on his father’s face.

Balancing the semi in the crook of his arm, Hawkmoth’s fingers grab the switch.  


* * *

  
Pollen was racing.

Fighting.

Ninety-eight percent.

Almost there… she had to…

She _had_ to…

 _Ninety-nine percent…_  


* * *

  
A tiny chirping sound tossed into Adrien’s amplifier and his ears perked to listen to it.

Through his foggy eyes, he watched as the orange light suddenly went out as soon as Hawkmoth pulled it. The victory screwed on his father’s lips lessened as he glanced down at the unlit switch. He flicked it on and off.

Then again.

His face grew hard with frustration.

“What the-”

“Time’s up.”

A beautiful voice broke through the shock and a yo-yo zipped forward to sling around Hawkmoth’s neck. It lassoed several times, hooking tightly at his throat. The controller and the gun toppled from his arms. She was sitting up, her blue eyes clear, her hands grasping the string of the yo-yo.

“This is for my parents.”

She stood, kicking the semi and controller away from him, and yanked hard on the wire. His knees were buckling now - his lined face clenching with ugly surprise and panicking fear.

“This is for all the lives you’ve destroyed.”

She pulled harder and Adrien could only watch as the blood vessels burst in Hawkmoth’s wild eyes.

“This is for Adrien.”

Marinette let out a roar as she swung the yo-yo’s strings up over her head and the weapon lifted Hawkmoth into the air by his neck only to slam his body hard to the ground. He crumbled, his voice breaking in his whimpers, the wires cutting deep into the thin skin of his throat.

“How does the collar feel, Hawkmoth?” She hissed, before flinging her hand to the left and sending his father to the back of the chamber near the broken statue. Marinette stepped forward, heading towards the helpless man. His hands were digging at his throat, desperation and tears running down his ripped mask. She grew closer and he tried to shuffle away from her, his back pressing on the broken statue’s body.

He collapsed against it, wiggling for air.

Marinette leaned down to him. Adrien could barely make out her pressing a series of buttons on the burgundy top of the yo-yo. Straightening, she walked away, putting her back to Hawkmoth. Her grip on the string slackened as she met Adrien’s eyes. She stopped once she’d reached his side and turned around to face the monster that had haunted her footsteps.

“This is for me,” she called softly. “Karma’s a bitch.”

The explosion rocked the chamber, the yo-yo’s top opening in a flashing burst of heat and light. Adrien covered his face with his arm, the sound of it turning his stomach.

He didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see it. The echoes of the explosion broke off slowly into a deafening quiet. She stood tall, her eyes glazed with the grueling sight. It was illuminated, the statue’s spotlight showcasing the headless body like a proud display. Lifting her hand, there was a buzzing metallic whirl before the blood-stained yo-yo slipped obediently back into her hand. Marinette held the weapon gently at her side, crimson dripping from her fingertips.

There were voices above them, feet stomping closer to the chamber’s entrance.

Adrien ignored it.

Ignored all of it except for the woman standing at his side.

Reaching up, he touched her wrist gently and she jumped as if waking from a dream. Glancing down at him, he could see the deep darkness inside her frozen eyes -  shock, bitterness, and a hitch of disbelief. He tugged slightly, inviting her to sit. His breathing was difficult, the tightness in his chest sending shards of agony through his lungs and side, but despite all that, the corners of his lips lifted as she slowly lowered herself to sit beside him.   

It was over.

“I…” he coughed and sucked in a hard breath. Marinette’s eyes immediately brightened with concern.

“No,” she shushed, looking so dazzlingly anxious for him his choking smile grew wider.

“Don’t talk, Adrien. You need to stay still. Help is coming-”

“I… I need…”

“What?” She leaned a little closer. “What do you need?”

“Closer…”

When her face was near enough for him, he lifted up a hand and pressed her lips to his. Her small squeak of surprise was enough to make his head whirl. She was here. She was alive and whole. And they survived it.

It all dissolved back to the simplicity he’d felt when he’d first kissed her. Like a piece of a puzzle finally fitting into place. Warm, and soft. Her fingers reached to cradle the side of his face tenderly.

Complete. That was the word he was looking for.

He was complete.

“ _WHERE THE HELL IS MY YO-YO!?_ ”

Lips jerking apart, both eyes widening in surprise, Marinette’s blue gaze slowly traveled meekly to the top of the spiral staircase.

“Oh… Hi, Bee…”


	26. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, we live happily ever after

"Nate, is she here yet?" the small girl whined.

Green eyes flicking from the grilling chicken to the kitchen window, the tall redhead grinned down at Sophie and shook his head, red hair tossing into his turquoise eyes.

"Not yet, Soph."

"When will she be here? I really want cake!"

"Me too, but we have to wait."

Nino glanced up from unloading the champagne flutes on the back counter to give Nathaniel a laughing smile. The redhead had drastically improved since that fateful night a year ago when he'd been dropped off at his doorstep. Now a part-time grill cook at his pub, Nino had to admit Nathaniel was making spectacular progress both mentally - and _financially_.

Housing one of the famous "Ladybug Survivors" had given Nino's restaurant a newfound popularity. Business was busier than ever - many people requesting to meet Nate in person to shake his hand or take pictures with him. At first, Nino had been uneasy that all this attention would be too much for the young man, but Alya had simply clicked her tongue and called him a worry-wart.

Turned out, Nate was great with people.

And the art! It had dawned on Alya and Nino quickly that Nate had a pure talent for it. From sketches to paintings to an increasingly popular comic, he was building quite a reputation for himself. So much so, he probably wouldn't need to be a grill cook too much longer - much to Nino's disappointment.

Oh, the life of a celebrity.

After Hawkmoth's defeat, many of the events were hushed. The rest of the akuma, with help of the tracking signal from Hawkmoth's Master Controller, were able to break from their collars and rehabilitate in hospitals throughout Paris. Families reunited. Victims' names released. Officials, law enforcement, and politicians alike were sentenced by the highest courts for inhumane acts, torture, and enslavement - just to name a few charges.

It was tragic that there were still several Masters out there, many international, who had somehow avoided getting caught - those that had wormed their way out of a thorough investigation with money or influence.

As for Hawkmoth's true identity, for Adrien's sake, it was kept from the media. The mayor's body, reported as caught in the crossfire with the assassins in front of Le Louvre, was cremated with a very private viewing - of which only Adrien and Marinette attended.

And speaking of Adrien-

The back door wrenched open and messy blond hair rushed inside with green eyes wild.

"Yay! He's here! Let's eat cake!" Sophie cheered loudly.

If anything, Adrien's face increased in panic. "She's _here?_ "

"No, dude. Sophie just wants cake." Nino rolled his eyes and gave his daughter a reprimanding frown. "She won't be here for another thirty minutes. Trust me, Alya's got this."

He held up his phone with a blinking GPS and Adrien practically swooned against a cabinet in relief.

Straightening his green tie and smoothing his freshly-pressed black pants, Adrien ran a hand through his tossed blond hair - attempting to straighten the flyaway strands. Nino laughed and moved to drape an arm around his best friend's shoulders. As always, even if Adrien acted as skittish as a cat, he still somehow found a way to look like he was modeling on the runway.

"You look killer, dude," Nino said easily, straightening the sleeves of his friend's black-collared shirt. "Don't sweat it. If she doesn't say yes, I'll marry you."

"How comforting," Adrien chuckled. "Have the flowers-?"

"Arrived and waiting behind the bar, man. Chill out. I've got this. The ring, the flowers, the candles-"

"The cake!" Nate added with a laugh and Sophie let out a squeal of delight.

"Exactly!" Nino grinned. "See? There's no way any issues will crop up-"

The bell tinged, signaling someone at the front door and Nino could have sworn Adrien's skin grew three degrees paler.

"That can't be her, dude. Alya made sure to take the long route for once."

"Probably someone from the Orphanage," Nate chimed in with a kind nod. "Just forgot to use the back door."

"You're probably right," Adrien said, letting go a nervous breath.

"Mind getting that for me, then? Still got a few things to clean up here." Nino held up a flute he was polishing.

The blond nodded, the fear still prominent in his eyes as he headed through the swinging doors.

Nino caught Nathaniel's eye.

They both shared a furtive grin.  


* * *

  
Entering, Adrien stopped at the longish blue-striped hair and bright blue eyes of Luka Couffaine peering through the smoky glass of the front window. Next to him, Tikki's round face was smiling cutely.

Hurrying forward, he unlocked the door and let them in.

"I'm so sorry!" Tikki squeaked. "I told Luka we should have gone around to the back entrance."

"No, it's fine! Marinette isn't here yet." Adrien grinned as the smaller girl gave him a tight hug. As she let go, Luka stepped forward with a happy smile.

"Congratulations, Adrien," he said, clapping a hand on the blond's shoulder.

"Well, she hasn't said yes yet," Adrien sighed.

"There's no way she would say anything else. Marinette has never been happier. I can tell. You two complete each other," Tikki chimed sweetly.

"You say that, but I still want to throw up," the blond groaned.

Luka let out a small laugh as Tikki's arm snaked around his thin waist. "You've got this, man. Just listen to your heart. If Tikki says it, it's meant to be."

"Trust me! You've got it in the bag!" Tikki announced with her eyes twinkling in excitement. "I knew all along you were meant for our dear Marinette."

Luka didn't reply, but simply gave Adrien a good-natured roll of his eyes as the couple crossed the restaurant to the back kitchen. He watched them go, hearing Tikki laugh loudly at something Luka said to her.

Turning back to the window, a reassurance settled inside his heart.

Even Marinette had agreed many times before: Tikki was always right.

The next twenty minutes were a complete blur. Adrien, helping Luka carry the champagne bottles from the back fridge to the front cooler, was greeted by Rose, Juleka, Wayzz, and several of the other rehabilitated Ladybug Survivors. Even Ivan, who Adrien had later learned helped hide the Orphanage in a golfing supply warehouse, stopped in with a cheerful wink.

They were all gathered, laughing and talking: his friends, his family, his team, his home - now all he needed was Marinette-

"I'm finally here!" A voice trumpeted from the front door and all eyes turned in surprise. Arms held high in a pose, wide sunglasses perched on her nose, Chloe's pink lips smiled haughtily at the quiet shock that filtered through the bar.

"Chloe!" Adrien cried, breaking the silence and rushing up to greet her. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Yeah, yeah, where is that yo-yo stealer anyway?" the blonde scoffed. "I only have a few hours here."

"Yo-yo stealer? Still haven't forgiven her, I see," he laughed.

"She broke it!" Chloe pouted.

"It attuned to her - there's a difference. The thing still works."

"But not for me!"

"Chloe - this was a year ago. They've made you another one since then, right?"

"Ah, yes, my stinger…" Whipping off her glasses, her blue eyes misted with delight. "It's so perfect… It's better than that old prototype."

"See? And don't hold it against Marinette for saving my life with it."

The blonde's ponytail swung as she touched his arm with an uncharacteristic sense of tactfulness. "I didn't mean it like that, Adrien. I just like giving her a hard time."

"As you like to do with most people you meet," he chuckled. "Speaking of, where's your crew? We invited everyone."

"Alas, it's only me," she sighed. Blue eyes flipping to the champagne flutes with interest, she tossed her hair and headed to a bar stool - but not before she whispered a quick, _"Good luck, Chat Noir,"_ in his ear.  


* * *

  
"This is just a simple dinner at Nino's pub. Why am I dressed like I'm going to a cocktail party with the French President?" Marinette asked with a small smile.

Raven locks pulled into a high bun, dressed in a long red romper with thin heels on her feet, Alya's makeup and red dangle earrings completed the look - and made her feel more like a doll than a human.

"You want to make Adrien's drool, right?"

"I guess so? I don't really see why I need to-"

"Why do you need a valid reason? Sometimes men need a reminder how much of a goddess you are. Keeps them worshiping at your feet."

"I don't want Adrien to worship me," Marinette giggled at the thought. "Though having him drool would be hilarious."

"Then trust me, girl. I've ensured that he will."

She watched as Alya pulled into the parking lot outside the pub - and frowned.

"There's a lot less cars than usual."

"Business has slowed a bit now that the media hype has relaxed," Alya said coolly.

That made sense. "I hope that doesn't impact Nino's plans for expansion."

"Ah, he's already locked that down with a contractor. He'll be fine."

Stepping out of the car, she walked to the front door - and caught Alya's nervous expression in the reflection of the window.

Before she could turn to ask, the door chimed open and the beautiful grinning face of Adrien greeted her.

Green eyes widened and his gaze traveled slowly up and down with a look of awe. It was enough to set Marinette's cheeks blushing with pride.

"My God, Marinette, you look… just..." He couldn't finish the words, instead deciding to simply gesture at her.

She giggled. "Why, thank you. You're looking pretty good, too." Marinette eyed his tie. "Love the throwback colors of black and green, Chat Noir."

"I may be a civilian now, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten what colors look the best on me."

Offering her his arm, he escorted her inside and her jaw dropped. Candles lit, red roses on every table, she glanced at Adrien and he shot her a nervous smile.

"Adrien, I- this is _wonderful_."

"Let's go over to the bar."

Leading her and pulling a bar stool for her to sit, a bottle of chilled champagne sat between them. He poured her a glass, and then one for himself, before sitting down on the stool next to her.

She could see it in every action he did - Adrien was terrified about something. His hands were trembling, his breathing sounded uneven. It set her own nerves aflame, wiggling and squirming inside her.

"Adrien, what is-?"

"Here," he interrupted softly, reaching into his front pocket for something. Sliding it over, her eyes grew wide.

It was the picture. The one that had brought him tumbling into her life. The simple smile on her lips, the short pigtails, the red crop-top and leather pants. It was a bit wrinkled from it's adventure from a year ago and slightly faded with age. Marinette had silently wondered what had happened to it.

Adrien swallowed. "I've kept your photo with me all this time. I treasure it. It was right here, Marinette. I was sitting on this stool when I finally found what I'd been searching for all this time. I didn't know what it was, but I felt something holding this photo of you. There was a connection. And I knew I would never let you go. Even before properly meeting you face-to-face."

Her heart was pounding, her eyes were wide, and she was speechless as Adrien stood from the stool and grabbed both her hands in his.

"Showing up at your door, fighting both with you and by your side, racing to save the world - Marinette Dupain-Cheng, that day when we met was the beginning of my life. Since then, we have laughed, cried, fought, forgave, and cherished. You challenge me to be more than I am - more than who I ever thought I could be. I treasure your photo because it brought me happiness I never thought I would find - I never thought I _deserved._ "

The tiny gasp left her lips as he reached into his back pocket and fished out a small box. Opening the lid, he knelt, holding the diamond steady.

His nerves were gone from his face. In the wake of his confession, a light had spilled from Adrien's kind green eyes.

She was nodding before she could even process what was happening.

"Marinette, my Ladybug. My love, my soulmate, and best friend - will you marry me?"

She couldn't take it anymore.

Leaping from the stool, her arms sprang around his neck and she tackled him to the ground. He fell back with a small " _oof"_ , and she landed on his lap, planting a kiss on his surprised lips.

" _Yes! Yes! Yes!_ " she cried, voice muffled against his mouth.

Arms immediately wrapping tightly around her, Adrien pressed her against his chest, kissing her back feverishly. Mouth opening, tongues tangling, her hands were in his hair, legs straddling his waist.

"Whoa, save it for tonight, you guys!" Nino shouted, bursting from the back-kitchen door with two bottles of champagne in each hand. Lips breaking in shock, Marinette's eyes popped open as everyone - _everyone_ \- came rushing through the door with cheers and congratulations.

Shifting, Adrien helped her to her feet with a sheepish grin. Her gaze dropped to the beautiful ring still in his hand. Plucking the ring from the box, he gilded it on her finger and bent to touch his forehead to hers.

"Hello, my hero," she said to him with heart full and eyes shining with happiness.

"Hello, my future," he whispered back, hand tipping her chin up for another kiss.  


* * *

  
Amidst the celebration, the chatter, the cake, and laughter, Tikki simply watched, her blue eyes following the glowing couple around the room.

"What do you see?" Luka asked, handing her a champagne flute with a bemused look.

"First, I'll tell you what I always saw: two traveling stars - both struggling through this world. They were each missing a piece that kept themselves from being a complete whole."

Turning to the blue-haired man, he was looking down at her with sweet affection.

"And now what do you see?" Luka asked.

She grinned brightly up at him.

"A shining sun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished this.  
> Thank you so much for all the support and love this story has been given.  
> It was an absolute joy to write and I hope it took you on the rollercoaster ride it took me on.  
> *wipes tear* my babies found their happy ending at last.
> 
> Wishing you love, laughter, and your favorite kind of cheese.  
> -Bluetreeleaves

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr for [fanart](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bluetreeleaves) fun!


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